Young Blood
by jazzerciser
Summary: I couldn't keep the screams out. I couldn't unsee the horrors that were forever a part of my nightmares. I couldn't save her, I couldn't save any of them. This was all my fault. My name is Clara Sullivan, and I am a Hogwarts survivor. No, that's not right. My name is Clara Sullivan, and I am the reason for the 2016 Hogwarts Massacre.
1. Young Blood

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, which belongs to JKR, or the song Young Blood by the Naked and Famous. Enjoy!**

* * *

Young Blood

_We lie beneath the stars at night  
Our hands gripping each other tight  
You keep my secrets hope to die  
Promises, swear them to the sky_

There was a sudden bang, a harsh, threatening sound. The metal gleamed and out shot a bullet. It headed straight for us like a dagger, and it hit her in the chest. Even though it was miniscule, she crumpled as though she'd been hit with a bulldozer, and she was falling, her mouth formed in an 'o' from a silent scream.

Instinctively I reached forward to catch her and stumbled harshly to the ground, my shin catching the bench from the Hufflepuff table on the way down. It was chaos. As I held her in my arms, I saw another student fall, his eyes glassy and his skin pale. His glasses slipped off his face as he landed on the ground. People were screaming, running, trampling one another in an effort to get away.

I wasn't sure how long I lay there with my arms around her, covered in her blood, unable to process anything, not even the flashes of green light and gun shots that were causing total mayhem. Eventually, he found me, yanking me up by my arms and forcing me to run. I didn't want to leave her behind; perhaps we should go back and get her. I turned to him to tell him so but the look on his face stopped me from asking anything at all.

Instead, I ran with him, side by side. I followed his path carefully. I knew he'd be mad if I tripped or fell behind. I didn't want to make him mad. All around us bodies were hurtling through space, and in the hysteria I felt like I was swimming, barely keeping my head afloat. He seemed to sense this, and dragged me down a narrow corridor and into a closet.

"Clara, I need you to stay here, okay? You'll be safe if you just stay quiet and don't move. Don't open the door for anyone until I get back. Okay?"

He was so serious. I wanted to tell him to calm down. He always did get worked up so easily. Instead I nodded and took a seat on the dusty floor of the closet. My gray eyes stared up at him until the door began to shut, and the darkness overtook the light.

As I sat there, I wondered where she was now. I knew we should have gone back for her, but I figured she could handle herself. She'd probably found Fred by now anyways.

"THEY'RE GOING TO KILL US, THEY'RE GOING TO KILL US ALL!" Footsteps pounded down the hall and I heard the horrified shrieks of a young girl just outside the door. There were more loud noises; I could hear the 'pop, pop, pop' through the door.

Suddenly, I could feel my heartbeat in my neck. My arms were sticky with blood that was not my own. My breathing pattern became shortened, coming harsh and fast. Yes, of course. She was dead. That would explain why she was letting me hold her for so long. Normally she hated to be touched by anyone other than Fred.

I blinked. Where had he gone? Probably to find his siblings. But I couldn't let him be out there alone. I had to save him. I had to stop the killing. It was, after all, my fault.

* * *

"Miss Sullivan, where were you the evening of June second, 2016?"

Numbly, I shifted my gaze over to the prosecutor. "At Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"And what were you doing prior to the killings?"

I could feel the pulse of my heart in my neck. "Making an announcement to the Great Hall."

"And what happened after your announcement?"

Every person in the courtroom stared at me, their gazes making my skin prickle. My throat went dry. "They shot her."

"Who is 'they'?"

I looked over at Him, the sick bastard in his wheelchair. He was on trial for murder, and he was sitting in the courtroom of the victims' families and _smirking_. "The Muggle-born Martyrs."

"Who are the Muggle-born Martyrs?"

"A group following the mindset of Lord Voldemort or Adolph Hitler. They believe purebloods should cease to exist. They think it their duty to destroy them. To murder them." My voice cracked and I forced the bile to stay down.

The prosecutor came closer to me. "Can you identify the members of this group for the court?"

I stared them down, one by one. They couldn't hurt me anymore. Couldn't touch me. Couldn't take anything more from me. They were going to burn in Hell, of that I would make sure. "Ivan Turner. Kevin Daley. Ross Nicholson. Sierra Greene. Tamara Wiggins. Carl Davenport. Bryant Hayes. Eric Harrisburg."

My gaze stopped on the last person in the row, and gray met green, just like that night, when she'd taken her gun and pointed it at my skull. "And Margaret Greyson."

"These nine people were the shooters? You saw each and every one of them with a gun?"

There was already proof of it. He didn't need me to say it. He just needed to put on a show for the Wizengamot. "Yes. I watched Carl Davenport use his wand to round up a group of students, and witnessed Ross Nicholson shoot them one by one. I watched Kevin Daley torture twelve year olds before brutally ending their lives-"

By now the courtroom was abuzz, and the prosecutor was trying to cut me off. I simply spoke louder.

"I saw with my own eyes Maggie Greyson pumping bullets into already dead bodies, saw Sierra Greene slit the throats of Slytherins-"

The Minister was pounding his gavel, trying to restore order. People were weeping, shouting, spewing venomous threats at the accused.

"I SAW IVAN TURNER SHOOT AND KILL THE CHILD OF HARRY POTTER WHILE THEY WERE PLEADING FOR THEIR LIFE!"

I was yanked out of the chair and forcibly dragged from the room, which was now in chaos. Everyone was either screaming or crying. Except for them. They were sitting there in silence, perfectly still. They'd done what they wanted to. Accomplished what they'd been planning. With one exception: they hadn't killed me.

* * *

I hadn't been sure of whether or not I'd find him out here. Considering what had happened over the summer, I didn't know if he'd even be allowed out of the castle.

Silently, I mounted my broom and flew up to him, feeling the moisture in the air and smelling the dampness of the grass and the trees. Early morning was the best time to train, as no one else was awake. All the more perfect for keeping secrets.

"You up for a game of one on one?"

He tossed me the quaffle and I caught it using just the crook of my right arm. I awarded him with a smirk and chucked the worn ball back at him.

"Sure. I'll even give you a handicap. Your ball for ten minutes, I'm not allowed to touch it." I grinned, knowing he hated it when I acted like the superior player, merely because I was on the team and he was not. But it made for a better game, in the end.

He flew his broom so that it was parallel to mine, but in opposite direction. His nose brushed mine as he leaned in. "Well in that case…"

Taking advantage of my momentary distraction, he made a quick loop around me and shot the quaffle through the hoop, effectively scoring against me. With another grin, I shot off after him.

We live in a time that historians call the Quell. The Wizarding World is at peace, Voldemort is dead, the Death Eaters are disbanded, and the community can now focus on topics like better education, creating more jobs, and making families.

That's what the adults say, anyway. Here at Hogwarts, being a pureblood is a death sentence. Even making eye contact with one is enough to put a target on your back. The muggleborns and half-bloods run the school, and the purebloods, like the children from those who won the Second Great Wizarding War, are shunned. They're bullied ruthlessly, often to the point where they're found lying unconscious in a corridor, forced to sit alone and away from everyone else, unallowed to partake in activities such as dances, parties, or even quidditch.

If the professors noticed, they never said anything. I think they felt that helping would only make matters worse, and they'd be right. I remember in my fourth year, Robert Corner had been tied to a tree for getting caught kissing Dominique Weasley. Our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Dean Thomas, tried to help by punishing the group of Ravenclaws that had done it, but the next day his entire office had been ransacked and destroyed. His food and drink were spiked with various potions and he never got control of his classes ever again. Anyone caught associating with a pureblood got the same treatment: harsh words, rogue hexes, isolation.

I guess you could infer by now that since I'm on the quidditch team, I'm not a pureblood. I'm a muggle-born, which instantly makes me popular. It's so backward, isn't it? But at the same time, it's like we've reverted back to the sixties and seventies when the entire mess began. I never was one to partake in the bullying or hexing, but I can't say I've ever done anything to stop it. I'm as bad as the rest of them, because despite being a Gryffindor, I have no courage to stand up to them. I prefer to keep my head down and just try and make it through the day.

That's why James and I play in the early hours of the morning, when it's still dark and the castle sleeps. We've been doing this since my first year, his second. Since I'm a muggle-born and am unable to practice at home, I'd started playing in the early mornings to prepare myself for the team tryouts. James came just so he had the chance to play, unable to be on the team.

He'd actually tried out in my first year, but something had happened that no one ever speaks of, James least of all. I remember seeing the difference in him, though. I'd watched him closely from the start, fascinated by the way he'd stick up for his cousins and friends. But after his tryout, he stopped preaching about unity and blood lineage. He kept his head down like the rest of the Pures. I'd watched him grow nearly mute. Even now, on the pitch, I was sometimes surprised when he spoke.

"Sullivan, are you going to play or float there like a reject?"

I raised a brow. "Your ten minutes are up, Potter." Before he had the chance to react, I flew past him so quickly it made his broom shift, and when I circled back around and flew by him again, I stole the quaffle.

I still don't really understand why the students here are waging a war against the purebloods. Their parents are happy with the way things are, and they're the ones who had to live through the Dark Times. Everyone here just feels self-righteous and indignant all the time. It's like they're trying to start another war, which makes it really ironic that we live in a time of peace.

James and I played to 100 points, and he won. He really is a better player than me, naturally has more talent, and playing against him puts me on my best game. I've always thought it a shame he isn't on our team, as he would be such a great asset, and honestly I thought that the captains would have been able to set aside blood line for the sake of winning. But none of them ever could. For the past six years, the Slytherins have won the House Cup, fueling the hatred for Pures even more.

Slytherin House is the reject of the castle. I'd heard stories that once it was Hufflepuff, that it was once the house where students who had no particular outstanding trait or talent was placed, but now, it's Slytherin. It's still the same pureblood-filled house, but I think a lot of students _want_ to be placed there, so they'd have allies. Because of this, they have some of the greatest quidditch players. Marcus Zabini, Albus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy, Roxanne Weasley, Vincent Chang, and Davina Wood are the members of the current team.

Once the Sun started threatening to rise and the birds began chirping, James and I landed in the middle of the pitch, plastered in sweat and short of breath.

"It was a pleasure to once again kick your arse, Sullivan," James smirked, rolling the quaffle beneath his foot.

I swiped the leather ball out from under him and he landed on his bum. "And it was a pleasure putting you on yours."

He glared, but accepted my hand as I helped him up. I reveled in the electric feeling that buzzed through my veins at the contact. I felt it and I knew he felt it too – there was a reason we were always seeking each other out in secret. We used our love of quidditch as an excuse but the truth of it is that we liked to be around one another.

But no one could know of our friendship, or else I'd be the one lying unconscious in a corridor, with James right beside me. Publicly associating with him would mean getting kicked off the team, losing my friends, becoming a broken and bruised pariah. And I'm a coward.

I never stuck up for James and he never asked me to. We knew our places, and we didn't fight it. I sat in the middle of the Gryffindor table, surrounded by my dorm mates and team members. He sat alone or with his family on the outskirts of the other Gryffindors. There were times when I grew so tired of the people I called my friends that I wished I could just get up and sit next to James, but that would make everything worse for both of us. Whatever our frustrations, we left it on the pitch.

* * *

**A/N: The last section of this is prior to the first two sections of this chapter, to clear up any confusion. This is my first action/dark story, and my first Next Gen story so I'm really excited about it! Please drop a review to let me know what you think!**


	2. Don't Panic

**Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter, and Coldplay owns the song Don't Panic. Enjoy!**

* * *

Don't Panic

_Bones, sinking like stones,  
All that we fought for,  
Homes, places we've grown,  
All of us are done for_

I crept silently back into my dormitory and headed for the shower, tossing my quidditch gear into the corner for the house elves to wash. I rolled my eyes as the girl in the bed next to mine, Margaret Greyson, snored loudly.

I loved my morning showers; they gave me time all to myself. Normally I was surrounded by people all day, jabbering on about absolute nonsense, and when you share a dormitory with three other girls, it's very rare to have privacy. I lathered myself with vanilla scented lotion and cheerily shampooed my hair, reveling in the nearly silent rush of the water.

As I exited the shower twenty minutes later, I observed myself in the mirror. My skin was pale and clear, with a smattering of freckles across my nose. My hair was a deep shade of brown and hung down my back, halfway between being straight and being curly. My gray eyes, which usually were pretty lifeless, sparkled this morning. I wanted to do something different today.

Carefully, I got out my uniform and pressed the shirt and skirt with my wand. As I dressed, I made sure to shrink the skirt the tiniest bit, so that a few inches of skin were shown above the knee. I decided against wearing the itchy socks, knowing no one would punish me; Longbottom wanted that quidditch cup back in his office nearly as badly as the team did.

I buttoned up my shirt and adorned my sweater but left the tie untucked and shoved my robes into my bag. I didn't feel like wearing them this morning. The weather was still relatively mild, so most of the classrooms would be warm from the sunlight.

As Sierra Greene's alarm clock went off, I wandered over to Maggie's bedside and shook her awake. "Maggie? Hey, Mags? Will you do my hair and makeup this morning?"

The girl, who previously had been fast asleep, shot up so quickly it was like she was lying on a springboard. "Really? You're going to let me put makeup on you?"

I nodded, still entirely unsure of why I was going to subject myself to this torture. All I knew was that I wanted to start this year off different than all the rest.

"Just give me ten minutes to get dressed, okay?" The curly haired girl eagerly leapt out of bed and began scurrying around, gathering up socks and knickers. "Guys, Clara's going to let us do her hair and makeup today!"

This emitted a bunch of shrieks and excited squeals. I guess it's pretty obvious that usually my morning routine consists of showering, plaiting my hair back, getting dressed, and going to class, with not much time for hair products or mascara wands.

A few moments later I was clamped in place by Tamara Wiggins, who was putting some liquid gunk on my eyelids. Maggie was curling my hair with her wand, expertly twirling the strands. Sierra was maneuvering around Tamara, putting dabs of skin colored powder across my forehead, nose, cheeks, and chin.

I felt like a doll, although I wouldn't really know what dolls typically did. As a child, I preferred racing the neighborhood boys across the park and daring them to eat worms. I wasn't such a tomboy now, but I wasn't exactly the most feminine of women either.

People stared at me openly in the common room, and the girls looked pretty proud of their work. They were telling some of the guys on the quidditch team that I had asked them to do it. Embarrassed, I headed for the portrait hole with the intent of walking to breakfast by myself, but my team captain, Ivan Turner, caught up with me.

"Morning Clara! You look nice today," he said simply, but I could see the smirk behind his words.

I shouldered my bag a bit forcedly and shot him a glare. "Watch your mouth Turner."

I'd never particularly liked Ivan. He was smug and self-assured, and thought everything in life should be handed to him. He was a fair captain, but off the pitch he was hard to stomach, especially with the way he talked about girls and purebloods, like James.

James. My heart soared slightly as I thought about him. I wondered if he would notice my appearance this morning. I knew he shouldn't look my way, and I shouldn't want him to, but I couldn't help it.

Idly, I listened to Ivan chatter on about some new plays he'd created for the upcoming season, but I wasn't really interested. Tryouts weren't even for two weeks, and training wouldn't begin for an additional week after that. The only sort of quidditch I was concerned with at the moment was my early morning training sessions with a certain dark-haired boy.

As we entered the Great Hall, Ivan wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and the tables immediately started buzzing. Furiously, I ducked out from under him and settled myself at the table next to Eric Harrisburg. He was a sixth year as well and a friend of Ivan, but didn't play quidditch and could be counted on for silence.

"Aw come on, Sully!" Ivan pled as he sat across from me. I ignored him as I began filling my plate. "It was just a joke, nothing to get upset about."

I shrugged. "I'm not upset, I just don't appreciate any extra attention."

He smirked and gave me a knowing look. "Oh really? Is that why you look like Maggie this morning? Everyone's looking at you, even _Potter,_" he spat. "I'll have to get him for that later."

Trying to mask my eagerness, I casually looked over to the end of the table near the professors, where he always sat with his sister. I caught his gaze and his amber eyes stared unnervingly back at me. "Leave it alone Ivan," I murmured.

"Leave it alone?" Ivan was outraged. "He's – he's _staring _at you!"

I slammed my biscuit onto my plate. "So what? It's a free sodding country. Lots of people are looking at me, as you've already pointed out, and most of them are doing so because you felt the need to create a scene when we walked in. How about you drop it and move on with your day?"

Even though it was still early, I grabbed a bit of toast and my satchel and stormed out of the hall. I ran into Maggie, Sierra, and Tamara on my way out but I didn't offer them an explanation. I'd see them in Potions soon, anyways.

I made my way to a narrow corridor that was hardly ever used. When McGonagall was having her classes here on the fourth floor, it was more frequented, but since she'd moved her classroom to the second floor it had become dusty and lifeless.

Slowly, I steadied my breathing. My throat had constricted when I'd made eye contact with James and I was still having a difficult time getting air to circulate through my lungs. Something was definitely wrong with me this morning. First, I'd wanted to be pampered. Then, I put James in danger by looking this way. Thirdly, I'd had it out with my quidditch captain, who had every bit of power over my position on the team and with my classmates.

I slammed my head back against the wall and sank down to my knees, letting my satchel fall beside me. I needed to keep my cool for the rest of the day. I could probably use my menstruation cycle as an excuse. That would get Ivan to back off.

"That was quite the performance back there."

Alexandra Longbottom stood in front of me, her blonde hair smartly braided back from her face. She was the only pureblood in the castle that wasn't subjected to complete torture and isolation because her father was a professor and the Head of Gryffindor House.

"I really made an arse of myself, huh?" I sighed and accepted her hand, getting to my feet.

She smiled. "Quite the contrary, I thought it was pretty great watching Turner get it like that. Guy's a creep."

The two of us laughed together, but it quickly grew forced and awkward. "Not to be rude, Alex, but why did you follow me here?"

Alex Longbottom, while not picked on by the muggle-borns and half-bloods, never associated with them by choice, considering what they did to her friends. She was very close with the Potter and Weasley families, and had been dating Fred Weasley for three years.

She shrugged. "You looked like you needed a friend. Try not to take this personally, but the people you hang around with don't really seem like good ones."

While I was surprised at her bluntness, I couldn't exactly argue against her statement. They may help me out with things from time to time, but when it came down to it, I knew they would throw me under the bus if my friendship with James ever came to light.

"You'd be right about that, I suppose. Their relationship with me is more about keeping up appearances." I shouldered my bag, knowing class was starting soon, but neither of us moved. We couldn't chance people seeing us together. It wouldn't cause the same reaction as seeing me with someone like James or Scorpius Malfoy, but it was still dangerous.

"Isn't that like everything nowadays?" Her wry smile held some sadness, and my eyes shifted to the ground. I've always felt horrible about the way the Pures were treated, but more horrible about the fact that I had never done a single thing about it. There were a few muggle-borns or half-bloods who decided to befriend the Pures, but they either gave up after the punishments were too harsh or became so good at retaliation that they became feared by the rest of the school. Either way, they had tried.

After a moment, she said goodbye and walked towards the staircase, while I made my way back towards the Entrance Hall. I had to suck it up and apologize to Ivan. I wasn't going to like it, but it had to be done.

* * *

Later on, I made my way up to Gryffindor Tower, sweaty and exhausted. I'd gone out for a run around the pitch, partly for training purposes but mostly to get away from my dorm mates. They'd been fretting all day about what Ivan could have done to my social status, and although he'd accepted my apology and the excuse about it being PMS, they were worried he could still "demote" me. They continued to amaze me with their vanity. If I wasn't on the quidditch team, they never would have accepted me because I didn't put any effort into my appearance and didn't care for social interactions much.

I jogged up a flight of stairs, eager to get to the shower before Maggie had a go with it, seeing as how her showers took nearly an hour, but I stopped when I heard a groaning sound. Frowning, I followed the sound until I stopped outside a tapestry. Carefully lighting up my wand, I pulled it aside.

"James!" I gasped, looking at his bruised and bloodied state, and rushed over to him. "Who did this to you?" I murmured, gently brushing some hair off of his forehead.

He sat up slightly and spat out some blood. "Turner and his cronies."

"I told him to leave you alone," I said worriedly, using my wand to clean the shallowest of cuts, conjuring bandages for the others. I knew a few healing spells from playing quidditch, but I was no healer.

James just gave me a look. "Since when has he ever listened to anything other than the sound of his own voice?"

I laughed, causing him to chuckle, but he quickly stopped, holding a hand to his ribs. "Are any of them broken?" I was surprised at how much damage they had done. Normally it was more for intimidation purposes.

"Not sure. Pretty hard to breathe though. And move. If you could hand me my wand, which they threw over there when they attacked me, I can heal it." I did as he asked and he gingerly placed it to his abdomen. "Cowards. Six on one, with the advantage of surprise. If I'd been paying more attention, I could've kept control of my wand and gotten rid of them."

He looked truly angry with himself, but my hands were aching for the sweet release of nailing my captain in the face. If I'd thought I was angry with him this morning, it was nothing compared to what I was feeling now. "I'm so sorry James. This is all my fault. I was being stupid this morning."

"Yeah, what was with all the girly frou frou shit anyways?" he smirked, sitting up fully once he healed his ribs.

I smirked back, mostly because he sounded more like his typical self. "Just felt like trying something new. It was definitely a one-time thing though."

"You looked nice," he replied calmly, using his wand to siphon some of the blood off of his mouth and fists. At my glance down, he shrugged. "I got some hits in too."

Rolling my eyes at his macho-ness, I settled myself beside him, back up against the wall and legs sticking straight out in front of me. "I really am sorry James."

"Don't worry about it," James said simply. "I'm just glad you found me. I couldn't find the energy to get over to my wand."

"Is it normally this bad?" I asked, glancing over at him. My wand cast an eerie glow around the passageway.

He ruffled his hair with a sigh. "No, but Daley got me with Occlumency. He looked into my mind and saw various times of when I've watched you or thought about you."

I was suddenly very alarmed. Kevin Daley was the whiz kid of Turner's group of miscreants. He was unusually smart and able, with even the most difficult of magic coming easily to him. Turner had taken his intelligence and used it for monstrosities such as torturing Purebloods. I was extremely glad, however, that he hadn't seen any actual interactions between James and I.

"James, I thought you were more careful than that," I said softly, my tone sad.

He laughed bitterly. "It wouldn't matter if I was careful or not. Turner's hated my guts from the moment he met me, not to mention what happened this summer."

I bristled as I listened to him bring it up, but I chose to ignore it. "He's probably jealous of you," I offered, and he glanced over at me in surprise. "I mean, you're smarter than he is, and the professors love you. You're a better quidditch player than him, and you're not even on the team. Plus, you know, you're handsome."

I tried not to blush, but when he turned to me with a raised brow, my cheeks lit up. "Got something to tell me, Sullivan?"

I bumped my shoulder against his. "Shut it, Potter. Didn't you say that I looked good this morning?"

He jostled me back. "Don't let it go to your head."

"Doesn't matter, my head can't possibly get as big as yours," I teased, and the two of us just sat there laughing for a while.

"Hey," he spoke up suddenly. "Do I have any visible bruises on my face?"

I picked up my wand and held it under his head with one hand, using the other to grip his face so I could turn it. "Well, you've got a pretty nasty black eye, and the cut on your cheek only healed partially."

I let go of his face, but I didn't move my head, and neither did he. I had absolutely no control over myself in that moment. His warm breath spread across my cheeks and I felt his muscles tense as our arms pressed up against one another.

James cleared his throat and pulled back. "I'll fix myself up when I get to the dorm later. But you should head back. It's late."

"I'm not leaving you!" I cried angrily. "You're still hurt, and they could still be lurking about. I wouldn't put it past them."

"Well you can't exactly be seen walking into the common room with me," he pointed out steadily. James always annoyed me at times like this. He never let any of his emotions show. He was a locked box.

As we stood, I noticed him favoring his left side. Something was still wrong. "Then I'll disillusion myself."

We were at an impasse. "Fine," he muttered finally, angry that I'd won. He wouldn't have caved so quickly under normal circumstances, but I could tell he was still in pain. I disillusioned myself and then followed him back out into the hallway. We walked silently up to the tower, luckily not running into anyone. The progress was slow, but finally we made it to the seventh floor.

How sad is it that my one true friend at Hogwarts gets beaten, and I have to walk next to him, silent and invisible, just to make sure he's okay?

As soon as he walked into the common room and he started heading up the stairs to his dorm, I sprinted for my own dormitory, expertly dodging furniture and arms and legs. Once I got high enough that no one could see me, I undid the charm and entered my room.

Without a word to anyone, I dove onto my bed and yanked the hangings shut. It was just so unfair. What was I supposed to do? God I wanted to _kill _Ivan, and his stupid minions. Kevin, Carl Davenport, Bryant Hayes, Ross Nicholson, and probably Eric. He often got roped into these situations because of his dorm mates.

A few hot, angry tears escaped and I swiped at them, scratching myself under the right eye. Fantastic. From now on, I was dressing like my normal self. And as soon as quidditch started, I was so throwing the quaffle at his face.


	3. Heroes

**Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter and David Bowie owns the song Heroes. Enjoy!**

* * *

Heroes

_Though nothing will keep us together  
We can beat them, for ever and ever  
Oh we can be Heroes,  
just for one day_

**Clara's rebellion starts to unfold…**

The next morning, I could tell something was off with James. He was flying around a bit, but he was wobbling and he wasn't making any effort to throw the quaffle.

I flew up to him. "Potter, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong with me Sullivan, what's wrong with you?" He finally tossed me the quaffle, and he was trying not to wince, but I saw the pain on his face.

I pushed my broom closer to his so that I could see him better in the dark. "Is it your ribs still?"

"No, it's nothing." James shook his head and turned his broom around. "Let's just play."

Frowning, I looked at the ball in my hands. "I really don't think we should-"

"CLARA, I SAID I'M FINE!"

Startled at his scream, I dropped the quaffle and watched it until it hit the ground. When I looked back up at him, his eyes were blazing and his neck was red. After a moment, his eyes shifted back to normal and the redness disappeared.

"I'm…sorry," he said with a frown. "I really don't know what's wrong with me."

I nodded towards the ground, and with a sigh, he landed. I quickly followed. "James…"

Slowly and without looking at me, he lifted up his shirt. I gasped loudly, hardly believing my eyes. His stomach was covered with angry, black blotches. After he removed his bandages, I saw that it was even worse: there were also cuts, as many as nine, and so deep that blood was gushing out of them.

I quickly forced him to put the bandages back. "Is this from last night?"

"Yeah. Whatever curse they used, it's powerful, and it was made to slowly get worse with time. I could barely get to sleep last night, and when I woke up this was all over my chest. This has Daley written all over it," he said angrily, before wincing in pain.

My mind was reeling. I'd never seen something so grotesque before. "We've got to get you to the Hospital Wing!"

"I doubt Madam Bones would know what to do. Fred, Rose and I tried every healing charm we knew, and went through five different books. We found nothing even close to this. Whatever it is, Daley made it up himself."

Clenching my fists, I started taking furious steps toward the castle. "I'm going to _murder _Daley!"

"Stop!" he yelled, reaching out and grabbing my arm. He pulled back quickly and held his hand to his side. "You can't just go after him, Clara. That would be way too obvious. You're not even supposed to know about the attack, remember?"

I whirled around. "So what are we supposed to do? You can't just live with it and hope it will go away! It might kill you!"

"This is my problem, not yours," he responded calmly.

Seeing him standing there, so obviously in pain but so stubbornly collected, I wanted to break his composure. "Well maybe I don't want to watch you be hurt!" I snarled, getting right up in his face. He stared down at me, his expression unwavering.

I scoffed and got on my broom, flying off toward the castle. I didn't look back to see if he was still there, but I knew he was.

An hour later, I waited just around the corner where I knew Ivan's group would pass – they always took the same route to breakfast at approximately the same time. I poised my wand as I heard their chatter, trying to block out my fury at their obvious joking and cheerful banter.

Since I was disillusioned, they didn't notice me as they passed, but I cast a spell, undoing Kevin Daley's shoelaces. He frowned but stopped and knelt down.

"Hey guys, you go on, I'll catch up," he called, and the others nodded and wandered off.

I once again made myself visible and stepped out in front of him. "Hello Daley."

"Sullivan," he nodded, frowning. "Did you want something?"

Within a second I had him pressed up against the wall with my wand at his throat. "If you scream, I'll cut your jugular open," I hissed. I was _that_ angry.

He swallowed, but nodded silently. Everyone knew how skilled I was at charms.

"What hex did you use on James Potter?" My teeth were ground in frustration.

His eyes grew big and I watched him squirm. "What do you care?" he managed. "He's a Pure!"

"And you're going to be a dead man if you don't answer my question." I was growing impatient.

"All right! I made it up myself. It gives a person the same effects as if they were getting poisoned, but much slower and more painful." His lanky figure shook as I pressed my wand harder into his neck.

Completely disgusted, I jabbed him painfully. "What's the counter-curse?"

Silence. I stomped on his instep with all the force I could muster and he stumbled, but I forced him back against the wall. "Well?"

"Finite Mortus," he whispered, his air supply being slowly cut off by my spell. I didn't care that I was acting just like Ivan and his friends. After seven years, they deserved to have the tables turned on them.

Slowly, a smile spread across my cheeks. "Obliviate."

I stepped back from him as he blinked a few times. "Morning Kevin, heading to breakfast?"

He looked around in confusion. "Uhh yeah, I guess."

I hid my smirk as we walked towards the Great Hall. For once, I didn't mind listening to Maggie, Sierra, and Tamara's mindless chatter, or listening to the boys talk about their latest conquests. I fingered my wand under the table. I had perfect aim at James.

Casually, I brought my goblet of pumpkin juice up to my mouth and whispered the spell into it. I saw James straighten up suddenly, and he began clutching at his stomach. For a moment I panicked and thought that Daley had tricked me, but he slowly started to relax. I could see the relief in his eyes.

By the time he looked over at me, I was deep in conversation with Maggie about the Welcome Back party in the common room on Friday.

"Lisa Lindberg is going to sing," Sierra confided with a secretive grin. I pretended to be interested but stuffed a slice of bacon in my mouth and looked up at the ceiling so the rolling of my eyes wouldn't be noticed.

The girls continued to gush over Lisa and pondered what her song selection would be, and in my left ear I could hear Ross Nicholson, one of my fellow chasers, talking about what he'd done with Erica Stone last night in the Astronomy Tower.

It was a long breakfast, but it was completely worth it to have seen the relief on James' face. I had no idea what Daley had seen in his mind, but whatever it was, it had been bad enough for Ivan to want James to be in severe, life-threatening pain.

"Hey Sully, walk with me." Speaking of Ivan, he was standing in the doorway of the hall, nodding his head. I like how he didn't ask, just ordered. He did realize he wasn't my captain off of the pitch, right?

Squelching my irritation, I pushed back from the bench. I'd already gotten my revenge. "See you guys later," I muttered, and made my way over to where he was standing with Ross and Kevin. Due to my adeptness with charms, Flitwick had bumped me up a level in fourth year, so I had class with the seventh years.

I took my OWL a year early, and I would be doing the same with my NEWT this year. Fine by me, it would only free up my schedule so I could play quidditch. It also meant that I had class with James, so he got to watch me with the guys who beat him up.

I could feel the eyes of the students on me as I walked over to him. Rumors had spread furiously about us just from him putting his arm around me yesterday, and my outburst, which had been contributed to pregnancy mood swings, because I was with Ivan Turner's child, apparently. Worst of all, though, I could sense James' stare as I made my way over to him. With every step I wanted to run in the other direction and assure him that I only cared about him and that he was my friend, not Ivan. But I couldn't.

"You gonna sit next to me in Charms, like last year?" he smirked as we exited the hall.

Inwardly I rolled my eyes, but outwardly I smiled. "If you want."

Ross and Kevin exchanged a smirk and my nostrils flared the slightest bit. Everyone thought Ivan was shagging me. Normally I wouldn't care, seeing as how I valued the Hogwarts student population opinion as much as I valued dirt, but now that James had been so badly tortured by them, I could tell it infuriated him.

We entered the classroom and took our usual seats. Ivan and I sat at the desk directly in the center of the room, and Ross and Kevin took the desk behind us.

My attention shifted slightly as James walked through the door with his cousins, Fred and Rose, as well as Alex Longbottom. The group settled in their usual desks in the back corner, and Fred's twin sister Roxanne eventually came in with her own boyfriend, Vincent Chang. The six of them always sat together. They were extremely close and protective of one another. In some ways, I was jealous of them. The only real friendship I had was with James, and that had to be hidden.

"Oi, why are you staring at that filth?" Ivan brought me out of my reverie, forcing me to stare at his charming face. Note the dollop of sarcasm and the dash of disgust.

Quickly, I made up a lie. "Huh? Oh, I didn't mean to. I'm just really tired. I got up early for a run this morning."

He nodded and seemed to accept this, as it was common knowledge among my team that I trained avidly for quidditch, which for me included a lot of footwork as well.

I zoned out in the class as usual, and found myself daydreaming about sitting with James and his family in public. About actually enjoying the company I kept. About not having to act like someone I wasn't. It wasn't as though these thoughts were foreign to me, but I'd never had them quite so forcefully before.

The day hadn't gone too fantastically, despite the serenity I'd gotten from helping James this morning. Ivan kept touching me, placing his hand on the small of my back or my arm, only fueling the rumors, like I know he wanted to. I tried my best to stay away from him, but that meant talking to my dorm mates, who only wanted to discuss what was going on between my captain and I. Maggie glared threateningly at me every time I denied it.

There was a pop quiz in potions, which had never happened before, which I most certainly had failed, people were constantly staring at me because I was apparently pregnant and crazy, and to top it all off, I had caught James giving me a cold stare during dinner.

I'd tried to brush everyone off and go to bed early, but Maggie wouldn't have any of that.

"Clara, we've barely seen you since we got back to school! You're going to sit down here by the fire with us and tell us why you went to bed so abruptly last night and where you were this morning."

After being dragged over to an armchair and forced into it, I rolled my eyes, trying to look confident. "Well, since I'm on my period-" the boys all groaned and looked pained, "I was super tired last night, and just went to sleep. Then this morning I went out for a run, but I ended up tripping and hitting my head pretty hard, so I went to see Bones so she could check for a concussion."

"Are you all right?" Maggie asked with a frown. Feeling guilty for lying to her, because she genuinely seemed worried, I managed a smile and a nod.

For an hour I sat there by the fire, trying my best to stay alert and involved in the conversation, but my gaze kept straying to where James and Fred were doing homework silently in the darkest corner of the common room, trying not to attract attention. Luckily, since Ivan was excitedly sharing his plans for the upcoming season with most of the room, my looks had not garnered any unwanted attention.

James caught my gaze once, but sighed and turned away. I was pretty certain he was disappointed with me, and that made me sad. I didn't want to disappoint him. His opinion mattered greatly to me, as he was the one real thing in my life.

* * *

The next morning, James was not flying around, but instead lying on one of the bleachers in the Gryffindor section. I flew over to him and took a seat.

"I'm sorry if I've disappointed you," I offered, when he didn't acknowledge my arrival.

He sat up and met my gaze. "I know it's unfair of me to feel that way. You're just doing what you have to do."

My brow wrinkled. "Doing what I have to do? James, what is it that you think I'm doing, exactly?"

His cheeks tinged a bit red. "Well I mean, you're with Turner…"

"No I'm not!" I cried, desperate for him to know the truth. "James, I swear to you on my mother's life that Turner and I have never shared so much as an embrace. It's all rumors."

James' eyes lit up ever so slightly, betraying the rest of his blank countenance. "Really?"

"Yes you dolt. I thought you knew me. I wouldn't touch him with a fifty foot pole. Every time he puts his hand on me I fight the urge to bite it and then go for his jugular," I snapped, and then the two of us were laughing.

"Ever the lady," he replied, slinging an arm around my shoulder. I felt the sturdiness of it and welcomed the warmth he offered. It felt quite pleasant when James touched me, nothing like the disgust I felt when Ivan wrapped his arm around me.

We didn't play quidditch that morning. We sat there silently, knowing that we still had each other. And that was all that mattered.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, the next one is longer! Please leave a review to let me know what you thought :)**


	4. Hell is for Children

**Disclaimer: JKR owns HP, and Pat Benatar owns the rights to the song Hell is for Children. Enjoy!**

* * *

Hell Is For Children

_They cry in the dark, so you can't see their tears  
They hide in the light, so you can't see their fears  
Forgive and forget, all the while  
Love and pain become one and the same  
In the eyes of a wounded child_

**Reality catches up with Clara…**

I flew quickly around the pitch, the music from the WizPod the girls had gotten me last Christmas blasting in my ears. The week had been pretty terrible. I'd found that since last year, I had grown even more tired of the antics from my 'friends.' I used to actually be able to put up with the constant giggling and hair-twirling from my dorm mates, and the domineering and chauvinistic relations I had with my teammates, seeing as how I was the only girl on the team, but this year everything was just too much.

I'd found myself longing for real friendship that I could have in public. Seeing the way that the purebloods treated one another and their close relationships made me feel pathetic in comparison. I highly doubted that any one of my "friends" cared one ounce about me, or even knew anything about me, and I got the feeling that Maggie was starting to resent me for the attention I was getting from Ivan.

As I landed after about twenty laps, I was startled to find my captain standing in the middle of the pitch with his arms crossed. There was a smirk across his face that couldn't mean anything good. I'd come to associate it with whenever he was about to get his way.

"Turner," I said with a nod, making my way past him to the locker rooms.

He stopped me by gripping my wrist. "Not so fast."

"Ivan, that hurts," I spoke through gritted teeth. He responded by yanking me in to his chest.

"I've got a proposition for you, Sullivan," he said smarmily, his breath assaulting my face.

I tried to wrench free, but his grip was iron-locked. "Yeah? And what's that?"

"For you to be my girlfriend."

There was something about his tone that made my insides seize up, although I tried to show I wasn't intimidated. "Right, like I would ever agree to that in a million years."

"Ah, ah, ah." Ivan's brown eyes were dark and filled with malice. "If I were you, I'd listen to the entire argument."

As his grip tightened further, I hissed in pain. "So talk then."

"If you don't agree to date me, I'll kick you off the team. Not to mention, I'll throw your little lover boy _Potter_ off the Astronomy tower," he said serenely. "And make it look like an accident."

Trying to keep my expression blank, I spoke as calmly as I could. "I don't know what you're insinuating with Albus, but whatever it is I can assure you that you're sorely misinformed."

"Albus?" Ivan raised a brow, his expression amused. "No, this is about James. I know he's in love with you, and if you don't want him to get hurt, I'd highly suggest you accept this offer."

My mind was racing. I tried to find some sort of loophole, some way to get ahead, but I came up with nothing. "Who says I even care what happens to Potter?"

I watched his smirk grow. I watched his lips form the words. I felt my stomach clench as though I'd been punched. "Kevin Daley."

So he _had _seen more than a few glances between James and I. We were in huge, huge trouble.

"So if I agree to this – agree to date you, you'll leave James alone?" Even as I spoke, I fought the urge to wretch.

His grin was ugly. "Deal's a deal."

I swallowed hard and looked away from him. "Okay."

Ivan's hand cupped my chin delicately. "I knew you'd see it my way – you're a very sensible girl."

I was trembling from head to toe as he held me there, still locked in his grip. He bowed his head and placed a lasting kiss on my lips before touching them with his thumb. Then he let go, laughed, and strolled away whistling.

Never in my life had I hated someone so much. Never in my life had I been so terrified.

* * *

I sprinted back up to the castle as fast as I could. My calves were burning, my lungs felt icy, and the cramp in my side felt like a knife was slowly tearing out my appendix, but I still ran. I pounded up the staircases, barely hearing the portraits as they scolded me and told me to slow down.

Professor Thomas came around the corner carrying a stack of papers and I dodged around him easily, sending a few of the papers flying.

"Whoa, Sullivan, where's the fire?" he called after me, but I spared no time or breath for a response. I had to find James. I had to tell him myself, before he found out from the rumor mill. He might never forgive me.

Thankfully for me, the common room was empty as everyone was at dinner, so I made my way up to the Seventh Year Boys Dormitory undetected. I knocked wildly, hoping with every fiber of my being that he was in there.

Fred answered the door, and I could see Alex and Rose Weasley behind him, frowning. "Sullivan? What do you want?"

His tone was cold.

"James? Is he in here? I need to speak with him, please!" I was wheezing, sweaty, and looked a mess.

Fred crossed his arms across his chest. "He's not here."

"Then do you know where he is? Please, it's extremely important!" _Please Fred please, I know I've never done you any favors but if you could just this once be the bigger person I would kiss your feet, _I begged in my head.

After a moment, he stepped back, allowing me inside the room. "This wouldn't, by any chance, have something to do with the fact that you and Ivan Turner are the school's latest item?"

My stomach dropped. "You – you already know about that?" I was too late. He knew. Everyone knew. James would never forgive me.

Fred just stared, but Alex nodded sadly. "He all but shouted it to the entire Great Hall."

I cursed and dug my fingernails into the palms of my hands.

Fred turned and began rifling through his trunk, digging out a piece of parchment. I couldn't see what was on it, for his back was turned, but after a moment he tucked it away once more.

"Astronomy Tower. You'll find him there."

I didn't even question him. I just shouted a very grateful 'thank you!' as I sprinted back out the door and towards the tower. I had never felt so desperate in my life.

"Where are you rushing off to Sullivan?"

As I flung myself around a corner I barreled right into Carl and Ross, who promptly wrapped their arms around me.

"Let go of me!" I struggled hard against them as I wildly swung out my legs, trying to land a kick.

Carl laughed viciously. "Calm down Sullivan, we're not going to hurt you." He put his lips by my ear. "Unless you misbehave. Then Ivan gave us full permission to do with you what we will."

I shivered and choked back a sob. I'd always known what these boys were capable of, but I'd never been privy to it. Until today.

"What the hell do you want?" I spat, the fear in my voice betraying me.

Ross smiled and clenched my forearms tighter. "Ivan would like a word."

"Tell him to eat my shit," I said as I spit in his face. They released me long enough for Ross to slam me against the wall and backhand me across the face. My cheek grew hot as the welt spread across it, and the pain made me gasp aloud.

He wrapped my hair around his fist and pulled my face closer to his. "You either come with us, or you get more of that," he said harshly, his eyes unforgiving.

"Coward," I whispered, my lips shaking. "You're a coward Nicholson."

Ross merely smiled and stepped back, sizing me up. He probably couldn't decide whether to use his fists or his wand. Taking advantage of this pause, I slipped my wand out from my sleeve and put him in a body-bind, before forcefully throwing Carl up against the wall, knocking him unconscious. And then I ran, faster than even before.

My wand was out in front of me, just in case Ivan was lying in wait, but I made it to the Astronomy Tower with no more problems. My cheek was now numb, but I could still feel the throbbing as I climbed the steps, refusing to slow down.

"James!" I gasped out, tripping over the last step and stumbling into the room. "James, I'm sorry!"

He was sitting on the ledge, facing the grounds, but he turned around to face me as I entered. In two steps he'd crossed the room and grabbed my face in his hand. I flinched in reflex, and his grip softened. "He do this to you?"

"Nicholson," I choked out. "I was cornered."

James stepped back and observed the bruises up and down my arms. The worst of them were on my wrist from where Ivan had grabbed me earlier. "This is what you chose for yourself?"

I hadn't expected him to be forgiving, but I hadn't expected him to be so cold. Uncaring. "No I – I didn't have a choice!"

"Everyone has a choice Sullivan. And you've made yours."

I trembled, shaking my head furiously. "No James. He was threatening to _kill _you! I was protecting you as much as myself!"

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You keep telling yourself that."

I was furious. I'd been manhandled, I'd been threatened, I'd been beaten! For him! Couldn't he see that? I swooped over to him and put his hand over my heart, and placed mine over his. "James, I did it for us! Because it's always been you and me. Always."

"You know it can't be us," he whispered angrily, his amber eyes switching back and forth between my own. "Because of him. Because of them."

I wanted him. I wanted him so bad I could practically taste him. But as the numbness began to wear off my cheek, a painful throb forced me back. "James, I wouldn't be doing this if he hadn't threatened you. You've seen what they can do!"

"And so have you." Gently, he cupped the injured cheek, running his thumb over the bruise. "But still you chose this path. We've always been on different sides. This is no different. You're even more in danger now that you're ensnared by him, Clara! I can't help you."

As he swept past me and out the door, I could barely contain my anger. Without my wand, I whipped my hand out to the side and burst all the glass in the window panes. Then I leaned against the wall and passed out.

"_Hey." Eleven year old me shakily got on her broomstick and flew up to the figure in the sky. "I'm Clara."_

_He eyed me distrustfully, his expression unsure. "James."_

"_I know. Want to play one on one?" I gestured to the quaffle in my grip and then threw it for him to catch. _

_As he caught it, he looked at me thoroughly for the first time. Then he nodded. "Okay."_

"_James, you can't do that!" 13 year old me cried out, laughing as he flew upside down on his broom, lazily floating past me._

_He grinned. "Says who? There're no rules in one on one!"_

"_So then I can do this?" I flew over and tickled his stomach, causing his legs to lose their grip. _

"_You could've just killed me, you know," he grunted as he swung himself back up on his broom._

_Then suddenly his face morphed into Ivan's and when he opened his mouth a gush of black blood poured out, his head falling away to reveal a severed neck. _

"Hey, hey! Wake up!" I jolted out of the dream, my own shriek of terror having woken me.

With an intake of breath, my eyes flew open and Fred Weasley swam in front of my vision. "Hey, are you all right?"

Slowly, he helped me to a sitting position. I could also see Alex and Rose peering down at me worriedly.

"I…think so? What happened?" Blearily, I noticed that I was still in the Astronomy Tower.

"You were passed out," Alex offered quietly. "The map said you were-"

Fred gave her a sharp look and she immediately cut herself off.

"You were passed out and we found you," Fred finished. "Rose?"

At his beckoning, Rose came over and knelt in front of me, examining my injuries. "These are all just flesh wounds, cuts and bruises that can easily be healed." She placed her wand on the various marks, and slowly they each disappeared, leaving a cool, tingling sensation.

"You passed out from stress and exhaustion, as well as a high level of anxiety," she continued quietly. "This made your throat to close up and, with the lack of oxygen, caused you to black out."

Fred was standing behind all of us, arms folded. "What happened to you, Sullivan?"

"What, abuse is new to you?" I said viciously, remembering the panic I'd felt when Carl and Ross had their arms around me.

His arms dropped to his sides. "Not for me, but for a well-liked Muggle-born such as yourself, yes."

Rose backed away once she was confident I wouldn't pass out again, and I eyed the three of them. "Why do you think I'm dating Turner?"

"Because of his good looks, his popularity, his charm, or…perhaps, his money?" Fred offered sarcastically, glancing at me with disdain.

I got to my feet. "Because he threatened me with James' life," I said softly before exiting the tower.

Numbly I walked back to the common room, not caring enough to protect myself. If Ivan or any of them wanted to come back to finish the job, I didn't care. I deserved it. I was a horrible person, and I was finally getting what I deserved.

As I entered the common room, things suddenly went silent, and everyone stared, taking in my haggard appearance. Maggie, Sierra, and Tamara were glaring at me in hatred. Ivan glanced up from his game of Wizard's Chess with Kevin and his mouth split into a wide smirk.

"Hey babe, come over here," he called, patting his lap. Ross and Carl smiled serenely at me, but I could see the threat in their eyes. They weren't finished with me yet.

Slowly, I put one foot in front of the other and, with the entire room watching with bated breath, lowered myself onto his lap. Ivan wrapped an arm around my waist and nuzzled my neck. "How's my favorite girl?" he whispered in my ear, and then I felt the point of a knife in my back.

I guess they really did prefer to do things the Muggle way. "I'm great," I responded hoarsely. Ross, Carl, Kevin, Eric, and Bryant Hayes all nodded in approval. The knife retracted, and Ivan smiled. I was in my own personal hell now.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading! This is a very dark story, and it will only continue to get darker. Please let me know what you thought with a review!**


	5. A Bad Dream

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to JKR! I also don't own the rights to the song A Bad Dream by Keane. Enjoy!**

* * *

A Bad Dream

_I wake up, it's a bad dream  
No one on my side  
I was fighting  
But I just feel too tired to be fighting  
Guess I'm not the fighting kind  
Wouldn't mind it if you were by my side  
But you're long gone  
Yeah you're long gone now_

I inwardly yawned while Ivan attacked my lips outside the Charms classroom. I knew he was doing it simply to spite James, and I barely managed to place my arms on his sides because I was concentrating so hard on not vomiting.

When he reached down and squeezed my arse, I pulled back and gave him a tight smile. "Honey," I said through gritted teeth, "I thought we weren't going there in public."

"Sorry," he smirked, running his hands up my sides. "You just drive me so _mad_."

His eyes made me shiver in fear and I numbly allowed him to put his hand on the small of my back and lead me into the classroom. James didn't so much as look up from his textbook as we entered, although Fred stared me down, his hazel eyes piercing into the back of my head.

"You got a problem, Weasley?" Ivan abruptly pulled himself away from me. Ross and Kevin stood behind him, cracking their knuckles. I sighed and sat down in my seat, waiting for Professor Peridon to arrive and stop the blatant display of masculinity.

Fred smiled and raised his hands in surrender, turning his attention back to the essay he was writing.

"That's what I thought," Ivan muttered under his breath, taking his seat next to me. He shot James a smug look before he placed his arm around my shoulder, but once again, he didn't react. It had gone on like this for the past few weeks. He wasn't even showing up at the pitch anymore. I didn't know if he'd found a different time or not, all I knew was that it was lonely up there in the dark sky by myself.

I'd never missed anything as much as I missed James – not even quidditch over the summers, or my father. There was a constant pang in my chest when I saw him, a gaping hole that got bigger every morning I was out there and he wasn't.

"You look great this morning beautiful," Ivan spoke loudly, and the knife was subtly jabbed into my side.

I knew the drill. "Thanks love. And may I say you're looking particularly handsome today?"

He pocketed the knife back into his robes. I'd had too many slices from that death-trap lately. Every time I didn't follow his lead, didn't make him look good in front of his peers, didn't put on a show for James, he pulled me somewhere private and placed a cut on my stomach, my back, my thighs…

It was so ironic. Most of the school thought I was so lucky, so popular, so perfect. Quidditch playing muggle-born and dating the most popular boy at school. Little did they know the abuse I was suffering in secret.

"_You filthy whore," Maggie spat at me as I walked up to the dormitory with them. She nodded to Tamara and Sierra, and they used their wands to magically bind me and freeze me in place. _

_I wasn't sure exactly what I'd done, so I remained silent. _

"_You stole Ivan from me! It was supposed to be me and him! I was going to rule the school!" Maggie slapped me and spit in my face. _

_I could do nothing as the warm saliva dripped down my face, getting tangled in my eyelashes. Then she nodded to Sierra and Tamara again._

_Maggie stood back and watched smugly, with an evil glint in her eyes, as they beat me as hard as they could. I was punched, kicked, slapped, scratched, and elbowed. After about fifteen minutes, they tired, and the girls retreated back downstairs to bid the boys goodnight. _

_Slowly I healed myself, dragging myself to the bathroom. I wiped Maggie's spit off of my face, healed the cuts and got rid of the blood. I finished with the bruises on my stomach. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I found myself unrecognizable. This was the face of someone who'd lost._

I'd become quite adept at healing charms. I'd also become skilled in acting. But James knew. He knew exactly what I was going through and he refused to give me the time of day. That hurt more than any knife or fist or curse.

After Charms, Ivan walked me to DADA, and as a reward for himself, he crammed his tongue down my throat. The students in my class thought we were sickening lovebirds. I was just plain sick. But every time I questioned myself and my dignity, I remembered James. I remembered his smile, his laugh, the way he smelled in the crisp morning air and the way he protected his family…and I remembered exactly why I was imprisoning myself.

"Clara! Come sit by me!" Maggie squealed, motioning me over to the center desk, our designated spot. I took my seat and let her smile at me threateningly, a foreshadowing for my nightly beating. Sure, I could've stopped them. I could've fought back. But it would only make matters worse for me because it would infuriate them.

I was just biding my time, waiting until they grew tired of hurting me, at least physically. Besides, I always reasoned that I was getting what I deserved, for standing by while they did the same thing to undeserving students for years on end.

Their lack of appreciation for the human life was astounding. It was as though the wars had never been fought. As though tens of thousands of people, Muggle and magical hadn't died just so that they could sit smugly in their seats, picking out their next victims. It was all a game to them. A sick, twisted game. I myself felt like I was in a game of Kiss or Kill. Every time I was alone with Ivan, I wondered. Would he snog me, or would he take his knife and just slit my throat?

All throughout class I listened to Maggie whisper in my ear. "You're such a little slut," "If I were as fat and ugly as you, I think I'd off myself," and my personal favorite, "Just kill yourself. There's no one on this Earth that even values your existence."

I'd truly contemplated that statement on multiple occasions. In the end, I decided that doing so would give them too much satisfaction, and that was the one thing that I could still keep for myself. My body, my dignity, my pride, and the only friendship I'd ever valued were given to these vicious leeches. But I refused to give them my life. I wouldn't put my mother through that again.

I went through the motions each day. Getting up and going out flying. Showering and getting dressed in the locker rooms to avoid a beating from my dorm mates, but meeting Ivan outside the portrait hole so he could assault my mouth and body in front of the entire house. Let him wrap his arm around me while we ate, but listened to him talk of his late-night trysts with various Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs like I wasn't even there.

I would go to my classes and sit front and center next to Maggie while she tried to poison my thoughts, while acting like we were still the best of friends. Like we were still the envy of the school.

After my classes I'd get pulled into a classroom by Ivan. He would rotate between tearing my clothes off and snogging me or cursing, punching, and cutting me open. The most terrifying thing was that I never knew what was coming or when.

I was under his thumb. I couldn't escape and he knew it, and only continued to prove it when one of his blows would knock me to my knees, where he would force me to pleasure him. If I refused, out came the knife, and the threat against James' life. Considering the fact that the two slept in the same dormitory, I took these remarks seriously.

In a matter of three weeks, I'd gone from being on the outskirts, being allowed to do what I pleased and free from the threat of torture or abuse, to being the greatest and most mistreated lapdog the world had ever seen. People who had once been my friends treated me like scum, something that didn't have feelings or thoughts of its own. Something to take frustrations out on.

Despite the constant healing of myself, I felt permanently bruised and broken. I had phantom pain, where I'd remember a particularly grueling beating and feel it on my abdomen or back, regardless of the fact that I'd healed those injuries days ago.

The only things helping me to keep my composure were my mornings and evenings on the pitch, although now that tryouts had wrapped up, we had started practicing again, and I had fresh, new torture to keep me on my toes.

Our team now stood with Ivan as Captain and Keeper, Ross, Bryant Hayes and I as chasers, Carl and a fifth year named Daniel Leary as beaters, and new-comer Gerald Macauley as our seeker. During practices, we would be doing a drill, and Ross and Bryant would suddenly pull away as two bludgers shot straight for me.

Ivan had the beaters on direct order to bash the bludgers at me at every opportunity, regardless of whether I had the quaffle or not. It was to "improve my game" and "prepare me for anything." I really knew it was because to them, I was a blood-traitor. I'd been friends with a Pure. And I preferred him to them.

I let out a groan as a bludger dislocated my shoulder. I'd managed to dodge the first one that time, but had no time to prepare for the second. The only consolation was that I still scored on Ivan. I landed briefly to pop my arm back into place and splint it, and then returned to the air for more.

Being kicked off the team seemed pretty good during practice, I had to admit. But I wanted to play professionally, and that was my one-way ticket out of this hell-hole.

After every practice, I went for a run around the pitch to get rid of my frustrations, so I could carry on with being abused. Though I carried my wand with me and stayed alert the entire time, not even allowing myself to listen to music, the team stayed away. They waited until I was safely tucked into the secrecy of the castle walls to hurt me.

It was funny: during the First and Second Wizarding Wars, Hogwarts had been a safe haven under the rule of Dumbledore. Now, for students like me, it was a real-life nightmare, a constant reminder that we were bottom-feeders, scum, dirt, garbage…and we deserved to be treated as such.

I showered and healed my injuries from practice and headed for Gryffindor Tower. I knew I was too lucky not to run into anyone for almost the entire walk, because as I rounded the corner on the sixth floor, I saw Ross and Carl standing in the hall with their arms crossed.

Sighing, I took a left into the classroom they were guarding, knowing he was waiting for me.

"There's my star chaser," Ivan said with a smirk from where he was perched atop the teacher's desk. With a flick of his wand, I was being pulled towards him by an invisible force. He grabbed me by my throat and threw me against the desk, the harsh corner slamming into my spine.

Still gripping my neck, he used his other hand to tear my shirt off, leaving it in tatters. Ivan trailed his lips down my chest and stomach, but pulled back suddenly and buried his fist in my abdomen. I doubled over and gasped in pain, but he used his hold on my throat to shove me back, getting his knife and holding the tip to my side.

"I saw you look at Potter today," he said furiously, tracing a threatening pattern on my skin with the knife.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, and cried out in pain when the knife slashed me, sending droplets of blood to the ground. He slapped me across the face and tossed me onto the desk, crushing me with his weight as he groped me and shoved his lips against my own.

He kissed me for a while, forcing my hands to go down his pants, and sat up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Put this on," Ivan said, tossing me his robes. "We're taking this back to my room so your precious _Potter_ can see."

Numbly, I did as he said, and I followed Ivan, Ross, and Carl back to the tower. As we entered the portrait hole, Carl and Ross joined Eric and Kevin by the fire, and Ivan put his hand on my arse, shoving me towards the staircase. That was just in case anyone didn't understand what exactly I would be doing with him upstairs.

"Whore," Maggie called out, and the common room broke out into laughter. Perhaps the students outside our circle thought she was joking. It didn't matter, because I knew she wasn't. She was right.

For the first time in three weeks, I made eye contact with James. He eyed me up and down and scoffed before returning to his homework. Fred simply stared as I walked past.

I followed him up the stairs, and in the darkness of the hallway I allowed my fear to take over as I climbed higher and higher. Now I was a lapdog, a slave, and a prostitute. Wouldn't my mother be proud.

The next morning it was pouring rain, but as the lightning flashed, I saw a figure already up in the air, waiting for my arrival.

"James?" I called out, flying towards him. "James? Is that you?"

My words got lost in the sudden clap of thunder, but my face dropped when I saw that it was Fred, not James who was floating in the air.

"Fancy a game?" he asked.

Trying to mask my disappointment, I nodded to the quaffle. "You any good?"

He spun the quaffle on his finger for a solid minute, and then without looking, flung it with all his might towards the end of the pitch. It hit the rim of the middle hoop and fell in.

Fred quirked a brow, as if to say, 'Do you still doubt me?'

I shrugged. "Your ball." I trailed him as he shot off for the quaffle, but as I made to steal it from him, he spun his broom around, knocking me off course. He was good, that was for sure. Not as good as James, but I still had my work cut out for me.

I ended up winning. Fred claimed it was because he hadn't played in months. I told him not to choke on his steaming bowl of bullshit.

When I got out of the shower and changed, I wandered back to the main part of the locker room to find him waiting for me. He was leaned against a locker, deep in thought.

"Waiting for your talent to come back, Weasley?" I teased, bringing him back to the present.

He observed me for a moment. "You were his best kept secret."

I blinked. "Pardon?"

"James. I never knew, in seven years, that he was meeting anyone else out here. I came this morning to confirm my suspicions. I thought you were like the rest of them. I was wrong. I'm sorry."

My throat constricted. "I was as bad as them. I never stopped it, never even tried."

Fred's piercing blue eyes pinned me to the wall. "Don't say that. You're not like them. You're better."

"I never cared about blood status," I started, choosing my words carefully. "I cared about the game, and eventually, the person I played it with. He was my one true friend, but as soon as I had him, I lost him." My body felt drained as I spoke.

Fred eyed me carefully. "He's not lost Sullivan. You are."

He walked just ahead of me up to the castle, a safe enough distance to ensure that we were not together, but close enough so that if anyone tried to grab me, he could protect me. Fred sure wasn't James, but who was I to turn down a friend at this point?

I continued to meet Fred out on the pitch in the mornings. He'd taken over for James quite effortlessly. I lost more times than I won, but it didn't matter. He gave me something to work toward, to want, to fight for. That proved to be invaluable.

While I missed James like hell, and I felt like a caged animal being prepared for slaughter, Fred kept me sane. Sanity was not something that came easily to me anymore.

I should have known the privacy we had was too good to be true. Less than a month after I began training with Fred, I found myself pulled into a dark classroom by my hair, with not even time to scream.

I was flung onto the ground, and immediately a foot covered in a steel-toe boot began crushing my ribs.

"So. You've found more filth to hang around with. I don't know if I should be impressed with your determination or your stupidity. But this will teach you to stay with your own kind."

I got a gasp of air for a glorious second, and then the boot came crashing down on my head.

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**A/N: Drop a review to let me know what you think! And I'm so sorry about the wait, I just got my computer back from the Geek Squad. Updates will be more frequent.**


	6. Mother Mother

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to JKR. I also don't own the rights to the song Mother Mother by Tracey Bonham. Enjoy!**

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Mother Mother

_When you sent me off to see the world_

_Were you scared that I might get hurt?_

I awoke to darkness. After several moments of paralyzing silence, I realized it was my eyelids. The moment I tried to open them, I felt hands holding up my head, and something was poured down my throat.

Water? I was so thirsty… I eagerly opened my mouth, but what flowed in was sickly sweet…and I was so tired…

"_Daddy?" I entered the dark bedroom. The television was on, but all that was playing was static. In the black and white glow, I saw my father's face illuminated, eyes wide open and glassy, mouth slightly eschew. "Daddy, I had a nightmare."_

_I walked towards him timidly, poking his arm. He was stiff. And so cold. I lifted the blankets up to cover him, so he could get warm again. "Daddy?"_

_Then I saw the pills scattered on the floor, and the slip of paper. I bent down to read it. A lot of the words I couldn't understand. I didn't know what they meant. But there were a few I could read. Failure. Sorry. Scared. _

_My daddy wasn't scared of anything. He'd killed the spiders in the bathroom, pulled me out of the way of cars, put me on his shoulders so the neighbor's big dog couldn't nip at my heels. My daddy was my hero. _

_Then all of a sudden a bunch of men in white coats and another bunch of men in uniforms burst in, flooding the room with light and sound. I saw my mummy, wrapped in a nightdress, crying. I started to make my way towards her, to comfort her, like she did to me when I was sad, but then a man in a dark blue uniform grabbed me and started to take me away. _

_I saw some other men place my dad onto a stretcher, and then cover him with a sheet. My mummy cried harder. _

"_NO! DAD! DADDY!" I shrieked, suddenly realizing what was happening. They were taking him away from me. _

It was dark again. And silent. There was pressure on my arm. I tried to open my eyes again, but found that I couldn't. They were so heavy.

"Who's…there…" I managed, my lips cracking from dryness and my body shutting down at the effort. I felt the weight on my arm shift as sleep started to kick in again.

"I'm sorry," someone whispered. For what? I wanted to ask. But I was tired again. I wanted to rest.

"_Hello Clara, my name is Doctor Howard. Do you know why you're here?"_

_I stared distrustfully at her white coat. People in white coats had taken my father from me. "Do you know where my daddy is?"_

_She wrote something on her clipboard. I looked out into the hallway through the window. My mother was talking to another person in a white coat, a man. _

_I didn't answer any of the doctor's questions. I watched my mother. "What are they saying to her?" I asked. She was crying. "Make them stop!"_

_When the doctor tried to restrain me, I started screaming. "MUM! MUMMY HELP ME! MUMMY, STOP CRYING!"_

This time when I awoke, I felt a tremendous weight on my chest, crushing my lungs. I tried to grab at my stomach, gasping for breath, and then I was being forced down, and liquid was pouring into my mouth through a tube. I struggled for another moment, and then, like magic, I fell back asleep.

_I stared out the window as the houses and mailboxes and trees flew past. I was getting a new home today. A place with a mummy and a daddy. I was told I was lucky. That most children in orphanages past the age of seven stayed there. But I didn't feel so lucky. _

"_Mummy, where are you going?" I had asked desperately as she packed a bag. _

_She had stopped for a second, but her hands were shaking. "Mummy has to go with those nice people that we talked to yesterday. She'll stay with them for a little while, and then she'll be back, and we'll be together again!"_

_I climbed onto the bed and sat in her suitcase, trying to prevent her from leaving. "But I don't __**want **__you to leave! I don't want you to go away!"_

_She cried harder. I thought telling her that I wanted her to stay would make her happy. I still thought she was a good mum. But she was so sad. _

"_Bye my sweet," she whispered, planting a kiss on top of my head. I remember her tears sliding down my forehead to my eyes, so that it looked like I was the one crying. But it wasn't. I never cried. I was Daddy's Little Warrior. _

The next time I woke up, my eyes fluttered open and I winced at the light. My eyes watered at the shock of the lamps overhead, and I tried to lift my arms to shield my face, only to find that they were constrained to the bed.

"Help," I rasped, feeling overwhelmed and scared. "Help!"

Madame Bones came into view, her blonde hair tucked up inside her hat and her smile pasted on. "Oh good, you're awake! I was worried I'd have to give you another sleeping potion while I set your legs, but you healed up quite nicely."

I frowned and moved my arms, showing that I couldn't lift them off the bed.

"Oh don't worry about that, dear. It's just so that you didn't move them in your sleep while I re-grew the bones in your arms." Her smile looked less cheerful, and there was a wrinkle in her brow.

I turned my head to the left to get away from the blinding light, and saw a chair pulled over to the side of my hospital bed. Noticing my stare, Madame Bones moved it back against the wall with her wand.

"He was visiting you quite a lot, you know," she confided, giving me a secretive smile.

I opened my mouth to ask who, but then McGonagall bustled in through the doors. She had taken over for Flitwick after he had died in my fourth year, and no one had challenged her position as Head Mistress.

"Miss Sullivan," she began grimly, "I'm glad to see you're awake."

I blinked. "What's going on?" That's what I tried to say, but it came out as a whisper because my throat was so dry. Madame Bones hurriedly gave me water, holding it to my lips so I could drink. After I had greedily sipped the entire glass, I asked again.

"I'm afraid that I have to ask you some questions," McGonagall said, leaning on her cane.

Frowning, I tried to remember what had put me in the Hospital Wing, and how I'd gotten here. But all I remembered was the draft from the dark room. Then I felt the weight on my ribs, crushing me, cutting off my air supply.

I began thrashing around wildly, gasping for air, fighting the constraints.

"Phantom pain!" Madame Bones shouted over the racket I was making, placing her arms on my chest to stop me from moving. "She did this the first two nights she was in here. Had to restrain her so the bones in her arms and legs could heal properly."

I settled back, sweaty and frustrated that they weren't helping me. Then I blinked, and the pressure was gone. "Nights?" I asked, panting slightly.

"You were brought into the Hospital Wing late on Thursday night. It is now Sunday morning." Madame Bones scribbled something on her clipboard and then wheeled over a cart full of potions.

McGonagall redirected my attention. "Miss Sullivan, do you remember who attacked you?"

"Attack…" I gazed off into the distance, and then I remembered the boot. So heavy. So painful. I remembered the crunches, the stickiness of the blood, the bitter taste of bile from retching. Then I knew what I had to do. "Sorry Professor. I don't remember anything."

She sighed. "I figured as much. Your injuries were quite extensive."

"The nasal bone was broken and the sternum was completely crushed, nearly puncturing a lung. Three ribs were broken and the others were badly bruised. Broken femur, patella, and tibia, as well as a broken ulna in the right arm, and crushed metacarpals on the left hand. This was not to mention the head trauma and the cut on your hip. It was so deep that I had to give you a transfusion," Madame Bones recited, her frown deepening as she read over the list.

"This obviously is a very serious matter. Whoever attacked you meant to kill you. If it weren't for Mr. Potter finding you when he did and rushing you here, you may not have survived." I'd never seen McGonagall's face look so grim.

The only thing I understood from the last five minutes was the word 'Potter.' "James?" I whispered, fearing that I would be wrong.

"Yes. He found you lying in a classroom on the fourth floor and rushed you straight here. He did not get to see the perpetrator, but rest assured Miss Sullivan that I will not stop until we have found your attacker." McGonagall walked towards the door, but looked back. "Oh and Miss Sullivan, you have been excused from Friday's classwork."

A small smile lit up my face, and I saw the ghost of one on the Head Mistress' face as well, before the door swung shut behind her.

My mind prickled over one word. "Madame Bones, who donated the blood for my transfusion?"

"Oh! I figured you would know already, what with him being your boyfriend and everything," she said, winking conspiratorially.

My hands began to shake, my heart started to race, and a sheen of sweat broke out on my face. "Ivan?" I whispered.

"Yes, dear. He was very eager to help as well. Now," Madame Bones began with a determined expression. "You've got six potions to take. Do you want to go from best tasting to worst, or vice versa?"

I surveyed the cart, trying to focus. It held potions that were thick, black, and chunky, and potions that were clear and harmless looking. "Let's get the worst over with," I sighed. This was not going to be pleasant.

Madame Bones insisted on keeping me in the Hospital Wing for another night, to give my head wound and broken bones time to heal completely. Even though I'd been sleeping for three days straight, I felt utterly exhausted and my head was pounding, so I didn't argue.

I was so confused, but it physically hurt to think too much. I assumed it was Ivan who attacked me, but why had he given me blood? I'd been left for dead…they could have killed me…but then, he saved me? I didn't understand.

I spent the day reading books I had conjured from my dormitory and choking down varied potions, doing my best not to vomit. I could feel the evil rushing through my veins. Contaminated. That's what I was. Filled with the blood of a rapist and a murderer. He did this purposely, to drive me mad. He wanted me to go insane.

I lay in the settling darkness with no visitors, no friends to speak of. Considering what had happened to me, I wondered what had happened to Fred. I was worried; he wasn't in here. What if he was lying unconscious somewhere, like I had been? Worse, what if he was actually dead? Ivan was fully capable of it.

Once I started to worry, I didn't stop. Matters were only made worse when the sun disappeared behind the mountains, casting the Hospital Wing into obscurity. Every time there was a noise, I jumped out of my skin, afraid Ivan or whoever had attacked me would come back to finish the job.

The door creaked open slowly. My breathing grew shallow and I looked around wildly for Madame Bones, but she had retired to her sleeping quarters for the night. I fumbled for my wand but realized that it was with my clothes in her locked office.

Then there were footsteps. They were slow, measured, and heavy. It was the man in the steel-toed boots! As silently as I could, I tried to get out of the bed and hide, but considering the fact that I still had a cast on both legs and an arm, it was extremely difficult.

The footsteps grew closer. Come on Clara, faster, faster! I managed to get both of my feet on the ground, but as I made to crouch down, a hand came down on my shoulder. I screamed loudly.

"Clara! Clara calm down, it's just me!"

Heart racing, I swallowed and turned around. "Fred! Oh my God, don't ever do that again! I thought you were- I thought you were-"

"Your attacker? That's why I'm here," he said. "I figured Daley would come back and try to finish the job."

"_Daley?!"_ I was shocked. He was so scrawny, so wiry, so…twisted and sick. "It was Daley who attacked me?"

Fred nodded grimly. "He was bragging to Ivan about it. Had on these heavy boots that were covered in blood."

My mind raced. The crack of the bones, the coppery taste of blood dripping down my face, the stench of bile, the feeling of suffocation…then total blackness. I'd suspected Ivan. Or Carl, or Ross. Possibly even Bryant. But Kevin Daley, the magical whiz kid. It made sense though – he was the master of coming up with torture techniques. He could easily figure out ways to maximize pain and minimize effort. And with those boots, he wouldn't have to rely on strength or power.

"But how come you're okay?" I was confused. I was in the Hospital Wing with dozens of broken bones and a head wound, but he was standing in front of me, completely unharmed.

"I know how to defend myself," he said darkly. "Not that you don't, but you're new to this. I started learning advanced DADA in second year. Turner sent his three quidditch cronies, Davenport, Nicholson, and Hayes after me, but they ended up much worse off than me. I've been in here every night though, just in case."

My heart fell. "You've been in here every night? And no one else?"

"Well obviously Madame Bones has been here, McGonagall's been here, Longbottom, firstly to make sure one of his students was all right and secondly to see his wife, and a few other students with varied injuries, but I was the only one here at night that I know of." Fred frowned, as though thinking about something.

I'd thought for certain that James would have come. He had, after all, brought me here. Didn't he care? "Fred?"

His eyes shot over to mine. "Hmm?"

"I know this is going to sound weird but, you weren't by any chance holding my hand at any point, were you?"

He laughed. "No, can't say that I was."

So that had been a hallucination. I should know better by now. Seeing my expression, he sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Are you in love James?"

"Yeah." There was no point in denying it. He was all my head or heart could think about lately. And he wouldn't even give me the time of day.

Fred sighed. "I'm sorry, Clara."

_I'm sorry, Clara. _That's what the doctors had said, that's what my mother had said, that's what my teachers and friends at school had said, and the multiple sets of foster parents I'd had before my mother took me back. I'd been receiving apologies all my life for things that clearly weren't the fault of anyone.

But this apology was so much worse. It meant there was no hope. Fred knew James better than anyone else, except for his brother. James didn't love me. And that was something I didn't think that I could live with.

"You should try and get some sleep," Fred advised, taking a seat beside my bed. "I'll be on the lookout."

I nodded and adjusted the pillows, rolling over so my back was to him. My throat constricted as though I might cry, but of course no tears came. Instead I was left with my own mistakes. James.

"_Mum?" I could hardly believe it. It was the first time I'd seen her since she left me at an orphanage when I was eight years old. She looked…fine. I'd been expecting a broken woman. A sad woman. Someone who'd been missing her daughter._

"_Clare Bear!" she cried happily, and crushed me to her in a hug. Like I was coming home from school on a break and it had only been a few months since we'd last seen each other. Except it had been five years. "Look at how big you've gotten!"_

_I pulled away and crossed my arms. "That tends to happen, even if your parents abandon you."_

"_Honey, you know I didn't want to leave you. But I had to, the doctors said it was best!" Her smile was perky and bright, as though it would help convince me of her innocence. _

"_Best for you! You had a choice Mum, and you made the wrong one, for me! You loved him more than me, and so you left. Like a coward." Turning away, I angrily kicked at the ground. Here we were in front of my seventh foster home, the wilted flowers and chipped picket fence the best parts about it._

_She blinked. "Honey…you know that's not true."_

_It didn't sound convincing, even to her. "But it is. So while I've been rotting away for years, you've been, what? Getting manicures and lying on cushy couches telling someone about your 'feelings?' No calls, no letters, not even on my birthday, or Christmas. I hate you! I wish you'd never come back!" And so I left, like she had done to me so many years before. Because that's the thing: I was a coward too._

I awoke to sunlight, chirping birds, and Madame Bones trying to cram a potion down my throat while I was unconscious. Fred was gone. As I obliged to her poking and prodding, I thought about the dream I'd had. Well, technically it wasn't a dream; it had been very real, once upon a time.

Of course I didn't actually mean it when I said I wished she had never come back for me. At age thirteen, I felt bitter, scorned, angsty…everything a thirteen year old feels even if they have two healthy parents and a roof over their head. I'd been unable to see how lucky I was to have a parent who cared enough to come back. Most parents left and didn't look back.

I could only hope that James cared enough to come back for me, too.


	7. Fix You

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to JKR! I also don't own the rights to the song Fix You by Coldplay. Enjoy!**

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**Fix You**

_And the tears come streaming down your face  
When you lose something you can't replace  
When you love someone, but it goes to waste  
Could it be worse?_

Going to Charms that morning was horrible. I'd managed a smile when Madame Bones proclaimed me healthy and sent me on my way, but as I took one step after another, I found my breathing becoming shallow and labored. I was terrified. I knew that Ivan had wanted me killed. And Kevin had been more than happy to do it.

Was this reality? Was I dreaming? These people I'd stuck with for six years now wanted me…dead? I'd known that they tortured others, beat them…but murder was just unfathomable, at least until now.

I didn't know what I would find when I opened the door. I didn't know if I was still "dating" Ivan or if he was done with me. I was so nervous that the insides of my thighs were quivering and I had difficulty supporting myself. I hadn't felt this alone in a long time.

As I entered, the first person I saw was James. His head was down, but I saw his body tense and I knew he knew I was there. Then I saw Fred and Alex and Rose. They looked at me sadly. For a crazy moment I thought about sitting down next to them, but if there was still a chance that I could protect James, I had to take it.

That's when I looked over at Ivan. He smiled, although the fury behind his eyes was obvious. I'd seen that look before, on the quidditch pitch before he had Ross and Carl pulling illegal plays to brutally injure the other players. I'd seen it when he'd beaten up a Slytherin so badly he'd been put into a coma for five days. And now, he was looking at me.

"Hey beautiful, glad to see you're okay. I was so worried about you!"

Subtext: _Hey Pure-loving skank, I hate the fact that you're still alive. Why couldn't you just die like you were supposed to?_

Swallowing, I forced myself to take my seat next to him. "It's so good to be back, and to see you handsome."

Subtext: _Choke on your tongue and snuff it, you bastard._

I made the mistake of glancing over at Daley. The sinister look on his face made my heart skip a beat. I felt the crunch of my ribs, the river of blood flowing from my nose and ears, the sudden pressure that took my breath away, forcing the blackness to take over. Quickly I faced front and buried my face in my bag under the pretense of searching for something.

The entire lesson I couldn't focus. I had no idea of the words coming out of Peridon's mouth. Ivan's hand was a vice around my shoulders, reminding me that I was still under lock and key. Kevin's eyes stayed trained on the back of my head, as though he were trying to physically get into my thoughts.

I wanted to flee. I wanted to leave the castle, the grounds, the school. I'd rather take my chances on the streets than remain here. But Ivan wrapped an arm around me, his grip like iron. I could feel the bruises on my shoulder forming already. His message was clear: stay under my arm, or you die. That weight was heavy.

The rest of my classes, where I sat next to Maggie, were even more terrifying. She was silent. I felt like she was planning something, like she would be the next one to make a murder attempt. Despite her muteness, she gave me glares so cold it was like I could feel the frost taking over my lungs. The looks were so effective because all I could see was the pure evil behind her dark eyes.

I needed to talk to James. I wanted to know why he had saved me, how he had known where I was. I wanted to know how it was so easy for him to abandon me. If I was really such a terrible person. I had so many questions but I couldn't get so much as a passing glance from him.

As the day wore on and my fear became more prominent, I devised a plan. I would make him talk to me, somehow. It kept me sane as I constantly checked over my shoulder, wand in a steadfast grip inside of my robe sleeve.

That night when Ivan and his cronies were off somewhere smoking and drinking, I took myself to an unused classroom and waited. Somehow James had known where I was when Daley was beating me, and if he had some sort of tracking charm on me, he would think I was in trouble. I wouldn't be wandering the castle by myself this late.

I sat and I waited, the anxiety building up a pressure in my chest. I counted the number of tiles in the ceiling, and picked at my nails. I counted to one hundred in English and Spanish. I thought about what I would say to him, what he would say to me.

He kept me waiting for a long time, so long that I was nearly ready to give up. But he did come. He walked in and looked right at me. A glorious smile spread across my face.

"If you wanted to speak with me, you just could've asked. Sent a note or something," he remarked, his voice dripping with disdain.

I leapt off of the desk I was perched on. "Stop being so cold with me James! I know you still care," I said, stepping as close to him as I dared. The scent of his aftershave wafted over and I allowed myself one selfish moment to breathe it in. This was the closest I'd been to him in a month.

He was silent.

"You saved me. You didn't have to." I tried not to let my voice sound too hopeful.

"So? You think I was just going to watch you die? You think that's what I want?" His voice started to rise and he furiously slashed his wand around, most likely silencing and locking up the room.

Because I was upset, and confused, and tired, I asked. "What _do _you want James?"

His amber eyes turned molten, filled with too many emotions to discern. "I want to live in a world where I can sit with my friends and family without having to put up wards so that we don't get cursed while we're eating or sleeping. I don't want to be tortured, or beaten, or watch my friends get tortured and beaten just because of who our families are. I want peace, because frankly, I'm exhausted. I want to tell my parents the truth of it all, so I don't have to lie to them. But most of all, Clara, I don't want you to be hurt."

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, taking another step, reaching out my hand.

Seemingly of their own accord, his own hand reached out and clasped mine briefly.

The close proximity was torturous. I was so close, but so far away. I could stretch forward and claim him for my own, but the pain of knowing I wasn't able to made it a bitter pill to swallow.

"James," I spoke, unsure of if I was asking him to stop, pleading with him to keep going, or just saying his name because I wasn't sure if this was real or not. He blinked and withdrew, and I physically had to stop myself from reaching out for him again.

He shook his head. "I can't. Clara, I can't watch you get dragged up to his dormitory. I can't watch you wince while you walk because of freshly healed wounds. I can't bear to see the hurt in your eyes because of me. I can't – I can't walk in on you broken and bloody and…" James stopped for a moment to turn away, his voice raw. "You deserve better. So I'm telling you: get away from Turner. Let him come after me."

"You can't watch me in pain, but I can watch you? I don't think so," I replied, shaking my head vehemently.

His eyes turned dark. "How about this? You stop looking out for me, I stop looking out for you. We become strangers. It's better for the both of us. Just keep your head down for a while and you'll be fine."

"Have they come after you at all since I gave myself over to him? Answer me that, James!" My eyes flashed furiously and he scoffed.

"You can't even protect yourself but you'll protect me. I don't need nor want you to Clara, don't you get that? Just save yourself the trouble and the pain," James muttered. "I'm going, and I don't want you to come after me."

"Don't leave again James!" I cried after him as he turned his back on me. He kept walking, and the door shut behind him heavily. "DAMNIT!"

I held both my hands out in front of me and stared into my palms. They started shaking, and suddenly, all of the desks in the room floated several feet into the air. I could feel my energy waning, and quickly. As I dropped my hands to my sides, the desks fell back to the ground, and I slumped over onto one, taking slow, steadying breaths.

There would not be a repeat of last time. I had to learn how to control my wandless magic. Perhaps it would give me some semblance of control over my own life.

I went to bed angry that night. _He_ was done looking out for _me? _I was the one who had been suffering, all so he would be left alone. The boys hadn't touched him, just like they'd promised. I'd taken it all. So really, who was protecting who?

The girls didn't come near me, which was suspicious, but I figured whatever they were planning, I didn't care. I was done letting them hurt me. I was done being Ivan's plaything and punching bag. I wasn't going to protect James anymore, not if he didn't care enough to protect me.

That was it. One little conversation and the past six years of friendship with him were over. I didn't understand him in the slightest. We were friends who played quidditch together. That was it. We hardly talked. Everything we wanted to say went into our flying, our throws, our maneuvers. But suddenly he was tossing me aside to "protect" me. I didn't need protecting, he did. Sure I had Ivan and co after me, but he had an entire school. Probably people outside of Hogwarts even, considering who his father is. People who he helped put in prison, or whose loved ones were killed or locked up during the war.

James really didn't see that he needed someone looking out for him. He couldn't always be the one to take care of everyone, he shouldn't always be left to fend for himself. Protecting him from Ivan was the least I could do, I knew that. But I guess now that was over too. Breaking things off with him wouldn't improve anything for me, though. It would only make things worse. I knew it was coming.

I was pleased to find Fred waiting for me on the pitch the next morning. Let Daley come after me again. He would never get close enough to hurt me, because I would kill him first. Maybe I should take a few Defense lessons from Fred.

I beat him twice that morning, which marked the first time I'd been able to best him since the day we'd started playing together.

When the sun started to come up, we landed and he leaned over his knees, panting hard. "What's gotten into you Sullivan?"

As I picked up the quaffle, I tested the weight of it in my hands. "Life," I responded. I got on my broom and flew over to the locker rooms, opening the door wandlessly and flying straight through.

The hot water from the shower pounded over me, but all I could feel was the furious pumping of the blood rushing to my veins. I was still so angry. I wondered when it would stop. Then I thought about James yelling at me, leaving me alone twice. About Ivan and his power over me. About Ross and Carl, and Kevin and those steel-toed boots. About Maggie, a girl who had once proclaimed us 'friends till the end,' a girl who spat in my face and kicked me in the ribs. All of this because of who I was friends with.

I got furious all over again.

I don't know how long I stayed in the shower, but by the time I got out, the rest of the team was assembled, and the spectators were arriving.

It was time to play the first quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw. I joined the rest of the team just as Ivan was about to give his pep talk. I hardly listened while he spoke, instead looking over to the Ravenclaw team.

We called their captain Grizz. He was big, he was mean, and he was built like a tank. He could smack bludgers at speeds up to 80 kilometers per hour and accurately, too. His fellow beater was Hank Monroe, a short but stocky redhead who could knock you off your broom in 2 seconds flat. Keeper Logan Jacobs was six feet and four inches, with limbs that could practically stretch the length of the hoops. In his Hogwarts career he had let in less than 40 goals.

Jamie Kelly was the seeker. She was small, but she was one of the fastest flyers in her school. She'd only missed the snitch in two games since joining the team four years ago. Then, there were the chasers. The two males, Kenneth Jones and Harvey Fitzgerald were average at best. Couldn't fly particularly fast, couldn't score a lot of goals, but could hurl the quaffle halfway down the pitch. It was Meredith you had to watch out for.

Meredith Scozzafava was one of the most agile and skilled chasers that had been on Ravenclaw for a long time. Off the pitch she was a model student, Prefect and head of the Gobstones club. On the pitch, she was a force to be reckoned with. She could foul a player without a second thought. She could out-maneuver anyone, and out-fly them, too. Though only a fifth year, she held one of the top three scoring records of all time. She was number three. Number two was held by Angelina Johnson-Weasley.

I wasn't worried. We had beaten Ravenclaw out for the cup last year, and I was Hogwarts' all-time top scorer. Meredith could choke on my dust.

"Break!" Ivan yelled out, and the players all separated to get dressed and start their pre-game rituals. He wandered over to me. "You ready for this sugartits?"

As he made to put his tongue in my mouth, I braced against his chest, hard. "I'm done, Turner. Leave me the hell alone. I'm not your 'girlfriend' or plaything or punching bag anymore. Keep your hands off me. You'll never touch me again," I said furiously, measuring his stare.

Ivan moved closer, his lips right by my ear. "You'd better say your goodbyes to _Potter_ then."

"I don't give a damn about him!" I yelled, breaking free from him. "This is about me! I'm here to play quidditch, that's all. I'll win for you, but other than that, we're done. From now on you're my captain, and I'm your player. If you try to hurt me again, I'll retaliate. You've been warned."

I spit on the ground at his feet and kicked off harshly, taking a few laps around the pitch to warm up. It felt good to be back in control of my own life. This game was mine. The cup was mine. My life was mine. No one was getting in the way. Not even James.

I watched as Grizz walked towards Ivan. Grizz smirked. Ivan nodded while they shook hands. Meredith growled at me as we stood face to face, straddling our brooms.

Professor Higgs flew into the air and released the snitch. My eye never left him as he tossed the quaffle up in the air. Meredith and I both shot straight for it, but I cut her off and got to it first.

Not a second later I was slammed with a bludger and I fumbled, just managing to hold onto the ball as I flew towards Jacobs. That's when the second bludger got me in the arm, just below my shoulder. It burned like a bitch but I didn't hear a crack and the quaffle was still in my possession, so I kept flying.

I dodged Jones to my left, Fitzgerald to my right, but as I got to the far side of the pitch, no one was in my way anymore. I frowned, but aimed to shoot anyway. As I released it a bludger slammed me from behind and I somersaulted on my broom, too dazed and confused to register the fact that it had been shot at me by my own team.

The crowd laughed because it was a mistake to them. I seethed because I knew it wasn't. Jacobs caught my throw and gave it to Meredith. With my sight on her, I pressed myself flat on my broom and raced across the pitch. Our seeker dove to get out of my way, and at the whistle of a bludger I dipped slightly myself, but it wasn't until I was level with her that I noticed Ross and Bryant were casually lounging on the other side of the field.

Infuriated, I swung my broom in front of Meredith's and wrested the quaffle from her grip, the force of her broom shoving me backwards. I pulled up harshly on my broom to untangle myself and to get away from her sharp elbows.

Since my fellow chasers were deciding to boycott the game, I reworked a play we'd made at practice for one pair of hands. As Fitzgerald came at me from one side, I wobbled on my broom, making it look like I was going to fumble the quaffle, and he moved in. I shoved him harshly and hit the back of his broom with the tail of mine and he flew off-course.

I saw Meredith's shadow before I heard her and did a spin in mid-air so her foot wouldn't connect. I struggled to regain the speed I'd had, but once I was there I went straight past Jacobs and in between the center and right hoops, circling back around and shooting it through the left hoop before he'd even gotten himself turned around.

I heard Bo Elmsworth announce the goal, and the roar of the Gryffindors, but I didn't stop to care. I intercepted his pass. He was so furious at himself that he overestimated the toss, making it easy for me to grab it and zoom right pass Meredith. I'd never seen her look so mad.

Ross decided to finally get in the game and flew below me, gesturing for the quaffle. I sighed but didn't hesitate as I dropped it for him to catch. The second it left my fingertips, the bludger came at me. I caught me in the forearm, which in turn smacked me in the face.

Ross missed the goal and while Jacobs was sizing up where to throw, I spat out the blood from the split lip I'd gotten and felt my arm. Bruised, but not broken. I'd gotten lucky so far, which couldn't be making my teammates very happy. I didn't know who'd hit that bludger, but I had a hunch it wasn't a Claw. They'd have gone for Ross.

I was seeing red at this point, and spitting it out onto the grass too, but I shook my thoughts clear and zoned in on the current play. Jones, Fitzgerald, and Scozzafava were throwing the quaffle back and forth to one another quickly, but I knew that either Jones or Fitzgerald would make a mistake soon.

Sure enough, ten seconds later Jones threw it over to Meredith when she wasn't expecting it and it went right over her shoulder.

"Thanks Jones!" I called out, shooting off towards the hoops with a grin. I heard Meredith yelling bloody murder at him.

Narrowing my eyes, I sized up my options. I had a slim margin of making it in the right hoop, his dominant side, and an even slimmer chance of making it through the center. I raised my arm to make an arced shot to the left hoop when I got hit behind by both bludgers.

Not used to experiencing the force of both at once, I dropped the quaffle and flew straight into the posts, banging my head. I scrambled for a hold as my broom fell out from under me and I wrapped my arms and legs around it, sliding several feet down before I stopped my momentum.

The crowd gasped and the whistle blew. My limbs were shaking from adrenaline, shock, and fear. I glanced down and saw I was about sixty feet up. Vaguely I accepted the referee's help as I got onto his broomstick. Everything was blurry.

I thanked him when we made it to the ground and wobbled over to my own broom, slightly dizzy from smacking my head. My split lip had gotten bigger. I tasted the coppery blood as I flicked my tongue over it.

"I'm sorry Sullivan, I can't give you a foul shot. The Ravenclaws didn't shoot those bludgers at you, and it wasn't an illegal play," Professor Higgs said apologetically. My teammates were all smirking. This had been planned. They wanted me to get hurt, to humiliate myself in front of the entire school and any scouts, if they were here. This was just another punishment.

My response was to spit a wad of blood onto the ground. I shrugged to let Higgs know I didn't care, grabbed my broom, and walked back towards Gryffindor's side of the pitch.

"Let's dance knob-whacker," I hissed at Ivan, catching him in the ribs with my shoulder. Whatever else my team had planned for me, it didn't matter. I would keep playing. I would keep going. I refused to quit and give them that satisfaction. I was going to hand-deliver Ivan a win, and I was going to love it.

We once again took our positions. Instead of sizing up the Claws, I sized up my opponents: my team members. The whistle blew and I hurtled into the air.

"Let's play some quidditch boys," I said to myself, tailing Meredith.

I played admirably for a while. I'd scored a total of three more goals, which was not only a record for me, but a record for Jacobs as well. He'd never let so many goals in a single game before. He was flustered. Unprepared. Didn't know how to take it.

Meredith was trying to make up for it by taking as many shots on goal as she could, but Ivan was playing irritatingly well. He blew a few kisses to the crowd and ran his hands through his hair.

I raised a brow and gestured I wanted the quaffle.

He smirked and faked tossing it to me. His expression said, _'Oh, you want this? Really?'_

I snarled and, impatient, flew over and took it from his grasp, diving low to get out of range of the Claw chasers. That was my mistake. It made Ivan very angry. I saw the first bludger coming, and I was able to shift so my back took the brunt of it, but I didn't see the second one because it hit me in the back of the head.

I pelted head-first into the ground, skidding onto my stomach. My robes tore and I felt a few stones making nice gashes on my abdomen. I groaned and managed to roll slightly onto my side to cough up the blood and bile in my throat before I passed out.

Dizzily, I opened my eyes to find Higgs, Madame Bones, and Professor Longbottom staring down at me worriedly.

"…I don't care Neville, she's sustained multiple injuries during this game, including two head injuries!"

"Let her talk first! Then you can take her back if need be," he said exasperatedly. Higgs gently moved me to a sitting position.

He knelt down in front of me. "You all right, Sullivan?"

My head pounded. My stomach churned. The gashes bled. I fought the urge to heave again. "Peachy, Professor," I rasped, and stood. At least, I tried to. I fell onto my hands and knees, but my right forearm hurt so badly from the hit towards the beginning of the match that it quivered and gave out, causing me to collapse.

In frustration I rolled over onto my back and banged my fist into the dirt. I laid there silently as Madame Bones did a quick scan of my injuries, seeing if any were, "serious." It turns out I did not, by the grace of God, have a concussion. My right wrist was sprained and I had two broken fingers, but everything else was just bruised, including the back of my head.

Once my wrist and fingers were splinted and my cuts and bruises were healed, I sipped some water and finally managed to stand.

Ivan wasn't even bothering to hide his smirk. He thought he had me. He thought he'd won. He was the only person who would be proud of his self-sabotage.

"You going to play, Sullivan?" Higgs asked me, his brows furrowed. Madame Bones looked skeptical, Professor Longbottom hopeful.

I made eye contact with my captain. "Oh yeah, I'll play."

When that whistle blew for a third time, I had no inhibitions. I was on a search and destroy mission: find the quaffle, destroy everyone in my way.


	8. Breathe Me

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to JKR! I also don't own the rights to the song Breathe Me by Sia. Enjoy!**

* * *

Breathe Me

_I have lost myself again  
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,  
Yeah I think that I might break  
I've lost myself again and I feel unsafe_

I wandered through the days with my wand constantly tucked inside my sleeve, the bags under my eyes growing with every night I didn't sleep. No matter how many charms and protection spells I placed around my bed, it never felt like it was enough. Who knew what Kevin could do to me while I was sleeping?

I numbly began to wonder why I was even bothering. I was already Ivan's newest target; why not show the rest of the school my allegiance to the Pures? Nothing these halfwitted hypocrites could do to me could hurt more than the loss of James. But I was so tired. And tired of being alone.

Now that James made it clear he no longer wanted anything to do with me, I seemed to notice him even more, making it harder to forget. He was in the sunlight streaming in through the windows, reminding me of how the sun reflected off of his dark hair. He was in my steaming mug of tea, the smoke rising in gentle tendrils, that reminded me of how on really cold winter mornings he used to bring out a mug of hot chocolate and we'd take turns sharing it as we huddled in the stands for warmth. He was even in the lines of my textbooks, as I subconsciously watched him help his sister with her homework.

Ivan and his merry band of arseholes had suspiciously left me alone since the game. This only added to my paranoia. Perhaps they'd grown tired of tormenting me, and they'd found someone else more interesting. Maybe they didn't want to bother with my retaliation. More than likely, they were plotting something truly horrific.

In Charms, I now sat in the front, the seat beside me empty as no one wanted to be seen with me now that I'd been cast aside from the limelight. According to Alex, I had a miscarriage with Ivan's baby and, in my upset, had cheated on him with a Pureblood. I was even more an outcast now than ever before, and strangely, I liked it. I didn't have a knife pressing into my side, breaking the skin, making me bleed. I didn't have to feel his slimy hands violating my body. I did not have to be privy to the constant threats and insults hurled at me by my dorm mates. It was quiet.

Still, though. I found myself stealing glances at the Pures. Fred and Alex holding hands under their desk, safe as long as they had each other. Rose and Scorpius, Roxanne and Vincent, Davina Wood and Albus Potter. They all had each other. James had his sister, his cousins, constantly there were people surrounding him, real friends. I had no one. Technically, I had Fred, but that was a secret, and I wondered again, why?

Quidditch practice wasn't too bad that night. I was hit with a few 'rogue' bludgers, but we were playing Slytherin next and Ivan actually wanted the team to perform well, so my harassment was put on hold for the time being. Once I made sure everyone else was heading back up to the castle, I anchored my wand in the waistband of my shorts and set off around the pitch on foot.

I didn't particularly enjoy running, but it was an excellent way to keep up my stamina and strengthen my core, and it set my mind at ease. I fell into my rhythm and found my thoughts wandering before I caught myself and went back on guard. It wasn't safe for me to daydream when I was out in the open like this, especially since I felt sure that Ivan's revenge was coming, and it had Daley's name written all over it. The possibilities were endless, really. He could invent any spell his twisted mind came up with.

After running several kilometers, I headed into the locker rooms for a shower. I placed my typical security spells on it, but carried my wand into the shower with me all the same. I knew the moment I thought I was safe, I would be proven wrong. Over and over and over.

As I was rinsing the shampoo from my hair, the lights began to flicker. Immediately on edge, I gripped my wand and wrapped my towel around me. I knew better than to call out, but desperately wished that I was in a better position.

Suddenly, the lights went out and before I could so much as think 'lumos,' I was grabbed from the stall and my wand was wrested from my grasp.

My mouth was clamped shut by an invisible force and my limbs were bound, arms pulled tight behind me. I couldn't fight it. I couldn't even scream. The lights flew back on as quickly as they went out, and I immediately wished they hadn't. Ross, Carl, Kevin, Bryan, and Eric formed a semi circle around me with Ivan at the center, all holding various weapons. Kevin was actually fingering a whip with demonic satisfaction on his face.

I was scared. I had never before been scared of them, knowing that they couldn't do anything too drastic in the castle where prefects and professors were constantly wandering about, but here, miles from the castle walls, no one would know where I was except for James, and I already knew he wasn't coming to my rescue.

"Not so indignant now, are we love?" Ivan said with a smirk, stepping towards me. Mustering up as much courage as I could, I set my face into a snarl and refused to shrink away from him. "Bravery won't get you anywhere, Clara. You're stuck here until we're done with you."

I shivered in disgust as my towel flew into Eric's hands. I desperately tried to make eye contact with him. If anyone was going to save me right now, it would be him. He wasn't as cruel as the others and he kept to himself, like me. But he was a follower, and he was following Ivan's orders.

Ivan grabbed me by the throat and forced me into a standing position. I knew it was coming before I felt the knife slash my abdomen. Blood splattered onto the ground like a sick rain storm and I lurched forward. My stomach churned as they jeered.

His fist slammed against my rib cage, then my face. His lips found me next, violating my mouth and body. I was horrified that there were six boys staring at my naked body, horrified that they could do anything they wanted, horrified that I could do nothing to stop it.

After Ivan had his fill, he stepped out of the way so Kevin could take the reins. He cracked the whip against the air threateningly, and it gleamed. Something was coated on it, and I knew by his sinister grin that it was nothing good.

Frantically, I tried to summon up the strength for wandless magic, but my fear was suppressing it. The first lash hit me full force in the chest and my skin immediately began to fester, the skin burning from whatever the weapon was laced with. I began to feel it not just on my skin, but deeper, burning through my blood stream. The next one got my face, opening a nice gash on my left cheek. The entire left side of my face started going numb and my eyelids fluttered.

After the fifth lash, my body was no longer fighting, but seemed to be shutting down. I grew dizzy, and the various insults and evil smiles blurred together. Then, all of a sudden, the pain stopped. My hazel eyes flew open in confusion.

"Don't worry Clara. I want you perfectly aware for the next hour."

Bile started to rise in my throat as Ross slid over to me. His hands roamed over my body, his fingers forcing their way between my legs. He slapped me across the face, spit on me, and then unbuckled his belt and thrust his way inside me.

Pain ripped through me and my eyes burned in hatred. They were laughing, grinning, cheering him on. Various other genitalia were forced upon me, my body jerkily responding to their wands as my mind tried to fight off the Imperius curse.

After a while, I grew exhausted, completely numb, and slowly let myself give in to the torture. If ever there were a time to go, it would be now. Knives were slashing at me, curses were bursting blood vessels under my skin, fists were blackening my eyes, my pelvis dripped blood onto the tile. I didn't want to be here anymore. I just wanted everything to stop.

"GET OFF OF HER!"

The authoritative voice caused a blissful lapse in pain and I managed to open one swollen eye to see Rose, Fred, and Alex brandishing their wands above their heads.

Almost immediately, the boys were hurled up against the lockers. They fell to the ground, unconscious, and Alex hurried over to me, undoing the spells and healing me to the best of her abilities. Her lips moved in a steady stream of words, her wand never slowing for a moment. I felt like I was outside of my body.

Dazedly, I felt my limbs being tugged, but I could not move. After several moments of whispering, Alex gave me a quiet apology before hoisting me into the air with her wand. Some sort of sheet was draped over my body, and the cool rush of air I felt from the wind was the last thing I remember before I blacked out.

"_There's my angel."_

_I blinked, unsure of where the voice had come from. My focus was hazy no matter how many times I tried to clear it. "….Dad?"_

"_It's me, Clare Bear. You've been so brave."_

_How was my father here? Where was I? And why couldn't I remember anything? "Dad, I'm scared."_

_My voice sounded weak. _

"_I know you are sweetheart, but you don't have to be. Just let go, and it will all be over. Everything will be done."_

"_What will be done?"_

_Silence. _

"_Daddy? What will be done?"_

_Silence._

_Then, "CLARA! CLARA! CAN YOU HEAR ME? CLARA!"_

With a gasp, I shot up, my head rushing so quickly I almost passed out again.

"Easy, easy," a familiar voice muttered, strong hands steadying my torso.

Hardly daring to hope, I tried to lift my head up. "James?"

Slowly, his pale, sinewy skin came into focus, followed by his hard amber eyes, his freckles, the stubble on his chin. "I'm here."

His voice was so quiet that if I weren't seeing him with my own eyes I would believe it was another dream.

"Why are you here?" My body felt so tired that I didn't care how weak I sounded. I didn't even want to know what had happened, I only wanted to know why he'd come back.

He swallowed and removed his hands from my arms. Right as he opened his mind to reply, the door opened and my rescuers bustled in.

"Clara, you're awake!" Rose exclaimed in surprise, as Alex whacked her on the arm and reminded her to be quiet.

Feeling more confident, I sat up all the way and turned to face them. I noticed I was in a bedroom of some sort, though not the usual Gryffindor dormitories. "Where am I?"

Fred, who had been silently leaning against the door frame, answered. "James and I created a spare room in the tower to sleep in two years ago. This is our dorm."

"You created a _room_?" Their advanced magical skills never ceased to amaze me.

James looked like he was trying not to smirk, but then his face clouded over into his typical blank countenance.

Gently, Alex settled herself on the bed beside me – whose bed was it? – and handed me a glass of water. "Clara, do you remember how you got here?"

Her calm dexterity and matter-of-factness reminded me of Madame Bones. "No. The last thing I remember is you three coming into the locker room."

"That's what I thought," she sighed. "Where would you like me to start?"

Trying to focus, which was difficult as Rose was now probing various areas on my body with her wand, I squeezed my eyes shut. "How did you know where I was?"

Fred snorted and exchanged a look with James. "I knew she would start with that."

Rose shot him a look and summoned a piece of parchment with her wand. "When James Potter the first attended Hogwarts, he and his group of friends created something called the Marauder's Map."

My mind raced, trying to recall anything about this map. After I'd started playing quidditch with James, I'd done so much research on his family that I could trace his history back to the Peverells, but I hadn't read anything about a map.

"This map," she continued, her blonde hair falling out of its typical plait, "shows everyone and every room at Hogwarts, wherever they are, whenever. Do you want to see?"

I extended my arms forward to take it from her and saw they were wrapped in bandages. Frowning, I looked over the parchment and spotted the five of us, just above the seventh year boy's dormitory where Ivan, Kevin, Carl, and Ross were. An involuntary shiver went down my spine.

"Don't worry," James said suddenly. "They can't even see this room. It's invisible to anyone who has no prior knowledge of it."

Again, I was amazed at their magical capacity, as well as the magic of this map. "Why hasn't there been anything in the history books about this map? It's been around for ages."

"Generally, it's been kept within the family since the Marauders' time here. And since none of us ever wanted to admit how we continually broke school rules, we just sort of…kept it hidden," Rose replied.

"Next question: why are my arms covered in bandages?" Tentatively, I examined the rest of my body, discovering that my torso and legs were also swathed in the gauzy material.

A muscle twitched in James' jaw as he looked away.

Rose, who was sitting on my other side, looked down at her wand which she was twirling around. "You remember that Daley was using a whip on you, yes?" At my nod, she continued. "It was laced with something. We don't know if it was a poison or not, but whatever it was left burn marks all over your body. Some are pretty bad, so we dipped the bandages in dittany and applied them. They've helped a little, although what would really help is if we knew what it was."

Slowly, almost shyly, I lifted my fingers to my face, which was bandage free. The skin felt relatively smooth. They must have done extensive healing on me. Suddenly, my fingers lodged into a deep, pocked mark on my cheek. My face morphed into an expression of terror as I was able to delve them at least an inch into my skin.

"Wh…what…?" My whole body was shaking.

"The lash to your face was the worst one." Alex's voice was quiet but firm. "It deteriorated some of your skin. Don't worry, we're in the process of regrowing it. By tomorrow morning it should look much better."

My gaze shifted to the window. It was night time. "How long has it been?"

"Almost four hours."

I jumped, once again forgetting about Fred.

I tried to calculate how long I'd passed out. Practice had ended at eight, my run at nine, the attack had probably been stopped at about ten…which meant it was the middle of the night. And they were here, with me, healing me, tending to my needs, patiently answering my questions. I felt a swell of something strange. Happiness? That was part of it, but… I think it was the act of real friendship that lifted my spirits.

"Well then, you all should get some sleep. I've kept you up half the night," I said quietly. My voice was gravelly, and a little sore. I sipped some more water.

Rose gave me a wan smile. "All right, we will, unless you have any more questions?"

I shook my head. "Not right now. I just want to sleep, and I know all of you do as well."

After a few more healing spells and a hearty thank you from me, Rose and Alex retired to their own side of the tower, and Fred went into the bathroom to shower.

It was so quiet in the room I could hear the thumping of my own heart. "James?"

He was still turned away from me, his jaw set. He didn't acknowledge me for a moment. Then, "does it hurt?"

"Does what hurt?" I asked in confusion. The fact that he wouldn't look at me made it harder to figure out what he was talking about.

He coughed. "You know, from when they…"

My eyes darkened. "You mean from when they raped me? No, not anymore."

Abruptly, he was facing me, his eyes gazing intensely into mine. "Clara, I'm sorry, okay? I am so incredibly sorry. I should have been there, stopped them-"

His voice was so tortured that I had to ease his pain. "James, that wasn't the first time."

"I know Ivan's…done it before. But still. This was more than one person."

I touched his forearm lightly. "Like I said, that wasn't the first time."

The weight of my words seemed to settle over him like a heavy cloak. His Adam's apple bobbed. "What?"

I released a deep sigh. I'd never before talked to anyone about my time with my foster families, not even my mother. But if anyone deserved this explanation, it was him. "The abuse I've been getting this year, physically, mentally, sexually…it's nothing new. The foster system is a terrible place for children, only slightly better than the streets. My third foster father was a drinker. He liked to blow off steam when he was drunk, on us. And his wife was just as bad. Screaming insults, telling us that our parents left us because we were worthless, insolent, bastard children, slapping us and locking us in our rooms for days…

"But it was my last foster home that was the worst. He would sneak into my room at night, lock the door, stuff a sock in my mouth, and threaten to toss me out on the streets if I screamed. It happened a few times before my wandless magic got the better of me. Luckily, my mother came back into the picture right about the same time." Even as I spoke, the memories came flooding back, and I fought the intense urge to vomit, or yell.

For a moment, the only sound was the rushing water coming from the bathroom. "I had no idea."

I shrugged. "A lot goes unseen, both here and in the foster system. Part of me thinks that I let the bullying go on for so long because this was my safe haven from abuse. I didn't want it to be happening here and in my foster home. Which is so stupid, because this should be a safe haven for everyone, and it's not." I drew my knees up to my chest, and winced slightly as it jostled the burns.

We sat in silence until Fred emerged from the bathroom and tumbled into his bed.

"You sleep in the bed Clara," James said, confirming my suspicion that the bed I'd been lying in was his own. "I'll conjure a cot for the corner."

The room itself was relatively small. If they had the capacity to create a room, surely they could make it as sizeable as they wanted? But that wasn't really the way they did things, I realized, and so I merely offered James a nod of thanks and hunkered down under the covers.

The lights were turned off and soon I could hear the steady breathing coming from Fred, but I knew that James was still awake. The sheets smelled like him, and despite the reason I was here, despite the torture and the pain and the humiliation of the attack, I felt nothing but happiness as I drifted off to sleep, feeling truly safe for the first time in months.


End file.
